Like Clockwork
by Pearl-Posts
Summary: The clock has only broken once before he followed Mori into Music Room 3, at the moment he realized his leg was gone. After a car crash leaves him disabled, aspiring dancer Naoki Mai is sure he'll never see the spotlight. The Ouran Host Club is determined to prove that he is wrong. -Rated T for later chapters and hinted violence (I'm paranoid). MaleOCxCanon (no spoilers).
1. Chapter 1

She saw it a second too late. A tick, a single chime, a breath, a fall. A second too late.

We lived on a throne. My family was oozing talent and promise. My mother was a classical pianist, my father an actor, my sister played lead guitar in her metal band. We were famous, the Mai family.

Until we weren't. Until the clock stopped.

My father's manager was driving. She had taken off her glasses for a second to examine her mascara, and ran a red light.

I remember the steering column exploding, and smoke billowing outside the tinted windows. I remember the smell of blood and the wail of sirens. I remember the weight, the crushing weight, on my hip and down my leg and I can remember that even when they pulled me out, I couldn't move it. I remember, at that moment, the clock began to tick again and I began to feel pain.

The manager died on impact, and my mother later in the hospital. My father walked away with a crushed lung and is now on breathing tubes. My sister hasn't waken up.

It was two weeks ago. The clock stopped only once.

I run it all now. The family fortune, that is; millions of yen in my possession. Well, technically, my father's, but he sleeps too often to care what I do with it.

So I used it to start over.

That's what I had to do. I did it, and it's all okay now.

 **_.-X-._**

It's the pitying glances that do it. They make my arms shake with rage. Two weeks ago, when I mentioned my name, I could get in anywhere. My classmates would crowd me at lunch. I rejected young ladies every week.

I sit alone in an empty classroom. My left pant leg is rolled over my knee and metal glints in the afternoon light. I flick it in an annoyed mantra, in time to the rhythmic ticking of the clock.

Brand doctors said I was lucky.

Click.

Lucky? They call this lucky?

Click.

I miss it.

Clang.

I yelp, and my metal leg vibrates where it's notched in my upper thigh, irritating the wound. The desk slips out from under me and I topple to the floor. The leg whacks against the floor with yet another loud clang. Something deep inside my knee clatters.

I push myself up and kneel on one knee, my left leg stretched out beside me. The plastic kneecap popped off and the metal bone hangs limply by one screw. Desperately, I slide my hands in a wide arc along the ground, searching for the missing screw in a haze of panic. I can't walk like this! I can't go out in public! I'm still trying to recover from the accident socially, people can't know I lost my leg too!

My fingers brush over it and I sigh. I grab it, align the plastic kneecap with the holes in the metal bone structure inside, and use my fingertip to screw it in until I can't turn it any more.

Slowly, I prop myself on the desk and stand with all my weight on my natural leg until I feel confident enough to test it. To my relief, it holds.

The bell rings for club period.

My steps even out the quicker I walk, so I pretty much jog from the emptied classroom.

Habit is a fickle beast. I find myself in the school's dance room on habit. Nevertheless, I drop my bag on the floor, drop my suit jacket, glasses, and tie on top, kick off my shoes and socks, and approach the opposite wall.

It's all mirrors. My eyes drift to the plastic and metal foot. My hands clench the smooth bar in front of me. My breath steams hot on the glass and fogs my features; my honey brown eyes and chocolate hair and softly curved features all become one big blur of color.

I back away, to the middle. The dance room is huge and cool, all ashen wood and smelling strongly of sweat and wood. I drag my bare foot across the panels, feeling the grains under it, and my hips and shoulders follow. My metal foot drops behind me, and I lean backwards.

The movements are slow, painstakingly slow, and I can pick them up. So I do. I glide and twirl and float, but somewhere under it all, I know I'm limping because I know my leg hurts so badly. The screw is too tight and my muscles have not moved like this since the accident. It hurts.

I fall on my shoulder with a clatter of my metal leg.

"Are you okay?"

"Hm?" My head shoots up and I flick my gaze around desperately. Someone is standing there, leaning against the doorway. I scramble to my knee, and my fake one pops out again. Something clinks against the floor and rolls away. I tuck my pant leg over my foot.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Who are you?"

"You're lying," he says. I blink, surprised, and he strides forward, past me, and taps me on the shoulder from behind. "You dropped this."

I hold out my hand hesitantly and he drops the screw in my palm. I blanch.

"Th- anks," I finally manage. He doesn't move.

"Do you need some help?"

"I'm fine," I cough awkwardly, the tiny screw still cupped in my palm. He still doesn't move. Shakily, I sit back on my right leg and swing my fake one in front of me. I push up my slacks and realign the pieces for the second time that day. The second screw goes in tighter than the first.

When I'm done, I hesitantly turn my gaze upwards to meet his eyes. Without my glasses on, he's just a tall cyan and black blur. He offers me a hand and I take it. He pulls me up with little effort.

"What's your name?" I ask again, limping off to gather my things. I slide my glasses on my nose and look at him clearly for the first time.

He's tall and menacing, with sharply pointed features and dark, dark hair. His eyes are so dark they almost match his hair; they're hooded and piercing and I could swear he's looking right through me. Despite everything about him, something is just… gentle.

"You can call me Mori," he offers in his voice that somehow reminds me of dark chocolate. I return to gathering my things.

"Well, Mori." I chew my tongue for a moment, feeling awkward. "I'm Naoki Shun Mai." I swing my bag over my shoulder and slide my feet into my shoes. "You won't, um, tell anyone about my-" I gulp, bite my tongue, and gesture down my left side. He shakes his head.

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"Well, I used to be in dance club but- I'm not in a club. You?"

He gazes at me, intensely but softly, and I'm suddenly self conscious, like the very sun is looking to my soul. Finally, he blinks, I relax, and Mori offers, "Come with me."

"I- uh," I try to deny him, but he's already in the hall and watching me expectantly, and I am trapped. So I close the door to the second dance room behind me and follow Mori down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

**I know it's pretty tacky to post two chapters of a brand new story I one ay, but I really like this chapter and I need to motivate myself to write some more, so...**

 **This is probably going to be one of my best OC stories yet! I'm really excited! It's everything this site loves: sensitivity, art, angst, gayness, et cetera. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do! :D**

 **Since I forgot an AN in the last chapter, here's a disclaimer: Pearl-Posts Corporations does not own the SparkleGays.**

 **_.-X-._**

Everything rises and falls in a pattern: breath, tides, moon phases, heart beats, seasons, time, life. Everything is ticking away with each second of a clock. To always ringing in the back of my head.

So far, in my life, there has been one moment, and only one, when this clock stopped, and that was the moment of the accident.

And like clockwork, like each perfect tick and chime and click deep inside, the clock systematically breaks and repairs. However, the breaking of the clock is something that I can't seem to measure with time. There is no measure of beats, no rise and fall, no bated breath or belated steps or chimes or clicks. It just

Stops.

Thus, like clockwork, just as I predicted and still never could have possibly seen coming, the ticking stops, and the clock doesn't ever quite work properly after that.

"Mori-senpai, you're here!" A bubbly, bright voice calls around a corner, and an equally bubbly, bright smile chases after it. "Oh, who's this?"

"You brought a boy?" Two sneer in unison. "Why?"

"Ta-ka-shi!" Yet another giggles. A streak of pink and gold and blue whirs past me and I turn quickly. A young boy, a kid, really, gazes up at me with huge brown eyes and asks, "What's your name?"

"Naoki Shun Mai," I mutter. "I- uhm, who are you?"

"I'm Honey." A finger scans the room, stopping occasionally. "That's Tamaki-chan, Hikaru-chan and Kaoru-chan." His finger stops briefly, "That's Kyoya-chan in the corner, and that's Haruhi-chan."

The Tamaki-chan steps closer, and I wonder if, maybe, he's the physical embodiment of summer: golden hair, violet eyes like the sea during sunset, that sunny, sunny smile.

"Why did Mori-senpai bring you here?" He asks as if I would know. I shrug and unconsciously tug down the hem of my slacks with my right foot.

"Naoki Shun Mai," someone interrupts. I cock my head in the direction of the crystal clear voice. The student introduced as Kyoya is standing now, reading from a black notebook. "The second child and only son in the Mai family. Two weeks ago, the Mai limousine crashed. Gen Mai, pianist, died in the hospital and Kaori Mai, guitarist, is comatose. Naoki Mai received a-"

"Please, don't!" I cut him off, throwing my hands out in front of me desperately. He stops, and gazes at me curiously, and silence that I have to fill, so I cough and begin, "That's my… Personal business and… Hold on, how'd you get it?"

"You were admitted to an Ootori Group hospital. I am a son of the head," he says flatly, snapping the binder closed and pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I suppose Mori brought you here because of something to do with your circumstance."

I shrug and look at the floor.

"It pains me to see a fellow student so troubled!" Tamaki announces, running his fingertips dramatically through his sunshine hair. "Tell me, Nao-chan, what is it that bothers you?"

"I, uhm…" I trail off. These boys are looking at me with catlike gazes; curious, expecting, entitled. I lick my lips and my shoulders fall, defeated. I used to relish in the attention, knowing my body was whole, but now it feels like every glance can strip me of my clothing or my confidence and everyone will see the metal where the skin used to be. Everyone will see that I can't fix the leg when it breaks, that it hurts even after two weeks, but probably not in flesh, maybe just in pride.

Finally, I sigh and mutter, "Promise you won't tell?" Everyone shuffles a little bit closer. I gather a handful of fabric and lift it up to reveal the shimmering metal and too-tight screws and flesh-colored plastic and ceramic.

"Oooooh," Tamaki coos, his violet eyes wide and sparkling. He flicks his gaze up to meet mine, snatches up my hands, and holds them close to my chest. I blanch.

"Tamaki-san?" I question.

"Naoki-chan, will you let us help you?" His nose is close to mine and his breath smells like vanilla and sugar. I can feel my face flushing with color.

"Well? Will you?" He asks again, quietly this time. I look over my shoulder and catch Mori's gentle steel gaze. Finally, the clock starts ticking again, and I nod.

His face breaks into the biggest smile I've ever seen and he hugs me, tightly, as though I'd just promised to let him have my family's whole fortune. I wonder, why is he so happy to help me? What could he possibly gain?

"Mister Mai," Kyoya interjects. I blink the surprise from my eyes and look at him. "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club."

"Wh- What?"

"In exchange for our assistance, you will act as the host club's new dog." His voice is cold, and light glints off his glasses, blinding me. He crosses his arms and tells more than asks, "Is that a suitable arrangement?"

"What does a- uhm, dog do?" I ask in astonishment.

"Oh, you'll do things like go shopping for us," one of the redheaded twins says with a flip of his hand.

"You guys, is this really necessary?" A brunette who's name I forgot already pipes up. "Why can't we just help him?"

"Of course, Haruhi," Kyoya defends calmly. "This way, we will be," he looks pointedly at me, and I gulp nervously, "more willing to keep silent about his handicap. Do you understand, Mister Mai?"

I can do nothing more than nod quickly and hold tightly to the thick leather strap on my school bag.

"What do you think, Milord?" The twins question in unison, advancing like predators and circling me. I try to keep up with their circling, but I get dizzy within a second.

"He'll do well!" Tamaki announces, spinning around to press his hand on my head and ruffle my mahogany hair. He smiles with his mouth and heart and says, "Welcome to the Ouran Host Club, little puppy."

I'm not sure whether to run away for thank him, so I only smile.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm really sorry for Tamaki in this chapter.

Thank you so much for the greatest thing that has ever happened on one of my stories; I got so much praise for this AND I don't know why! So thank you to Plexi Pink for the favorite, MISCharacter for a follow, Chubaholic for the follow and favorite, and reflectioncat for following! Additionally, reflectioncat has been reading my stories since Ouran Infiltrated, so double thanks!

Enjoy, despite everything.

I tuck my earbuds in my ears and drop my phone in my back pocket. It's empty here, and I can only stare at myself in the polished glass.

It's club time, and I'm sure the host club is looking for me since I'm blatantly skipping out on whatever duties they expect me to do, but I had to come. I had to roll up my sleeves and loosen my tie and pull up my slacks to look at my fake leg in the mirrors. I had to hear Winter Winds by Chopin floating in one ear and out the other.

Will it make any difference if they help?

Two weeks and five days ago, my family was driving to a reboot of Swan Lake. The ballet was the most highly anticipated theater performance since some super-famous actress played Esmeralda in The Phantom of the Opera a few years ago. And I was going to dance the male lead.

My understudy went on in my place, and is getting an astonishing amount of press already.

Will I ever get another chance to dance like I could before the accident? Will I ever get a part with a missing leg?

The music changes, and a song from the original Swan Lake play, one that they had decided to keep in the reboot, begins. I angrily turn my phone off and the music cuts off.

"I thought I'd find you here." I let out a surprised squeak and quickly roll my slacks back down. I meet his eyes in the mirror and sigh.

"I'm sorry, Tamaki-san, I-"

"It's okay," he cuts me off gently with that sunny smile. "Something's bothering you."

"I was going to dance the lead in Swan Lake," I admit sadly, my voice heavy.

He is silent for a moment, his eyes bright and wide, until he finally says, "Do you want to show me?"

"I can't," I protest, just as softly and sadly, my heart dropping with my words.

"I think you can." He steps closer and takes my hand. His fingers are warm and soft, just like the rest of him. "Let's go, Nao-chan."

He only lets go of my hand when we reach the doors to Music Room 3.

_.-X-._

"A protegè?" A young lady mimics in her sweet, girlish voice.

"Yes, Princess," Tamaki confirms, waving me over. "This is Naoki Mai, the host club's newest apprentice."

I set my tray on the table and bow to her, my glasses sliding down my nose. "It's a pleasure to meet you, miss." I refill her teacup and depart.

This is easier than I thought it would be. Though, I have been on my feet for an hour and the rubber seal on my leg is starting to ache. I set my tray down again on an unused table and brush my hand over the seam between rubber and flesh. It burns like fire; surprised, I hiss through my teeth and flinch away.

My hip jolts into the table, and the tray clatters, teacups and saucers and a whole pot of fresh, hot tea spills over the dark wood. A heavy vase of roses spills over, water and tea and petals and shards of glass raining over the side of the table. I yelp in surprise.

I spin around quickly. Dozens of eyes, both host and guest, stare at me. Quietly, speedily, Mori, hands in his pockets, walks steadily up to me, Honey on his heels.

"I- I'm so sorry!" I break the silence, tripping over my words.

"Are you okay?" He answers in his dark chocolate voice.

I nod, lying. He looks at me for a tense moment until I clear my throat and busy myself cleaning up the shards of wet ceramic from the tile floor. The screws in the knee are far too tight and I can't quite bend it all the way, so my left leg stays stretched out awkwardly. My hands shake and the ceramic slips out of my unsteady grip.

I can still feel mocking gazes on my back, even though I know everyone has turned back to their conversations by now. The leg holding all my weight starts to tremble. I know I used to be stronger, but two weeks out of practice has mangled my body. Finally, it gives way and I push my hands out to stop myself.

Shards of delicate glass and heavy ceramic pierce my skin, stinging with hot tea and flower water. I cry out wordlessly.

Fingers wrap around my wrists and pull me to my feet. I sway. Heat flushes up my throat and I swallow with difficulty.

"Nao-chan, are you okay?"

"No," I murmur, twisting my hands away and avoiding his eyes. "I'll clean it up when I get back."

Pulling shards of glass from my hands and shards of my pride from the floor, I limp as quickly as I can from the music room. The clock is ticking soundly, and I almost, almost, cry when I push open the school ground gates and gingerly take out my phone to call my ride home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Whyyyyy?! XD Why so many love? Thank you to emoBUTshy for the follow, YaoiRPAlley for the follow and the favorites, and to Perper37 for the follow and favorite.**

 **So, in a few chapters, the plot is gonna take off and I'm terribly sorry for that. XD**

 **Enjoy!**

I have to steel myself before I can open the doors. It's the last day before spring break, two hours before students are let out. I'm feeling strangely optimistic; something just seems right.

"Hi, Naoki-kun!" Honey greets me. I look around.

"Where is everyone?" The room is as empty as I've ever seen it. All the hosts are here, but the ladies and their squealing voices and lemon dresses aren't.

"We closed down host activities for today," Kyoya notes, his fingers flying over a laptop keyboard.

"Why?"

"Didn't you hear, Nao-chan?" Tamaki appears in full brilliance. "The host club is planning a springtime event to see off our guests for the break!"

"That's right!" Honey interjects again. "There's going to be all kinds of snacks!" He hums in satisfaction.

"So, um, when is it?" I ask, bouncing nervously on the balls of my feet.

"Tonight," one of the twins answers. I blanch.

"T- Tonight?" I mimic, aghast. "Do I have to come?"

"Of course," Kyoya snips in his matter-of-fact voice. I chew on my lip, silently stewing. I didn't think it would have been so much trouble for them to have told me. I'm sure my phone number is on one of those medical records Kyoya has unlimited access to.

"I don't have a- a suit or anything," I protest shyly.

"We have it covered," Kyoya answers plainly.

"Don't worry, Naoki-kun," the brunette whose name I keep forgetting smiles. "It'll be fun."

"That's my darling Haruhi!" Tamaki exclaims, squeezing her. The twins follow him earnestly. I sigh. Of course, it's going to be quite a night.

_.-X-._

I should have known. I should have backed out. Heck, I shouldn't even be here! They haven't properly helped me yet. But then again, I've been terrible at my job. But at least my clumsiness is justified! I have a brand new leg!

I'm positively boiling with rage.

Beside me, the brunette mutters under his breath, "Kill me," and I can't help but silently agree.

Although, I have to admit, it is beautiful. They hung paper lanterns (though lanterns are a token of summer) from the cherry blossom trees. Candles are burning silently is tall candelabras lining the large stone-paved courtyard. Paper streamers in pastel colors web above us. The air is warm with the last of the sunlight, sweet-smelling and tinted pink and purple.

"Is everything ready? The guests will be arriving any minute! Hikaru, Kaoru?" Tamaki is calling across what would otherwise be a still evening.

"Yeah boss!" They call in unison and trot arm in arm from where they were lighting the last candle.

"Kill me," the brunette mutters again.

"You're really that unimpressed?" I mutter back with a smile to show my good intentions.

"I don't want to be here," he deadpans.

"Neither do I," I agree quietly, "but it's a nice night. Don't you just love the smell of the air?"

"Yeah," his voice takes on a fond quality, somehow sweeter than the smell of the spring air. "You're right."

"Spring is the best season," I continue, my heart lifting with each word. "It finally warms up and you can go swimming and wear shorts and be outside. Right?"

I find him looking at me, doe-eyed and innocent and… pitiful. My smile crawls dejectedly from my face and I correct myself, "Well, you can anyway." My happy mood melts and drips down to my shiny, professional dress shoes.

"Naoki-kun?" He asks after a beat of silence.

"Don't ever skip out on doing something you like just because someone else can't do it, okay?" I ask quietly, voice hoarse past a sudden lump in my throat. "Promise?"

"Yeah," he finally agrees.

"Good!" I exclaim, smiling. "I-"

"Everyone!" Kyoya announces, effectively silencing me and a brawl that had broken out among Tamaki and one of the twins. "It is six o'clock; we're opening the doors now."

"Oh, Naoki-kun I almost forgot," the brunette says again and hands me something. I take it on impulse. "Tamaki-senpai asked me to give that to you."

"Thanks." I inspect the rose, a light pinkish salmon color, before tucking it into my lapel. With that, the heavy doors open and fluorescent light spills out onto the night-dark courtyard. The candles flicker, sending shadows dancing along the flood of pastel dresses that swirl into the courtyard, bringing noise and liveliness.

I turn away from it all, even as the hosts are greeting them, to a long table with a long tablecloth, and start gathering a teapot with tea, a teapot with coffee, a sugar bowl, and a dainty pitcher of cream on a tray. I heft it up, glad once more for upper body strength built by lifting ballet dancers into the air, and move around the edge of the crowd.

"Excuse me, would you like something to drink?" I ask a lady standing alone under a cherry tree, glowing pink with lanterns.

"No." She eyes me from down her nose, though she's significantly shorter than me, cornflower blue eyes dancing. Her deep red hair is alight at the tips. Unimpressed, she crosses her arms and leans against the tree.

"Well, don't you want to participate in the party?" I ask, a little bit put-out. "You're here, so you may as well have fun, right?"

"Fine," she answers haughtily, and doesn't move. Her eyes burn maliciously. "Come dance with me, host."

"I don't dance," I say quickly, the tongs clinking against the side of the sugar bowl as my hands jolt.

The girl smirks. "You're lying."

"I can't dance," I correct.

Her annoying blue eyes look me up and down and she nods. "I guess that wasn't a lie, but you're not exactly telling the truth, are you?"

"I- uhm, I just wanted to know if you were having fun," I defend nervously.

"Of course," she says flatly. She flips her hand, and something on her wrist catches the firelight and glints off her glasses and burns deeply into me. I cringe away from it and take a step back. She smiles at me with barred teeth.

"G- Goodbye then," I say awkwardly, licking my lips.

"Okay," she agrees, and turns her face directly, pointedly away from me. I half walk, half stumble away from that girl and that tree. Something about her just isn't right.

"Excuse me? Naoki-kun, was it?" I turn over my shoulder and force a smile through my uneasiness.

"Yes?"

"Could you do us a favor please?" There are two of them, whose type I didn't know went here. I can just sort of tell who they are. Their dresses are short and cut lowly, their hair twisted, their eyes bold and lips pouty. I think they're third years, a year above me.

"Of course," I answer pleasantly, my gaze fixed pointedly on the last one to talk's eyes. "Would you like me to fix you something to drink?" I bite my lip, holding back a sarcastic, You're looking very thirsty tonight, ladies, that would have been sure to send them running red-faced and embarrassed out the door.

"Actually," they trade smokey-eyed glances, "something else." The blonde one with curls of hair pinned to her head asks, "Won't you dance with us?"

"I'm sorry, I can't dance," I say with a complacent smile to each of them.

"All of the hosts can," the brunette girl pouts.

"I'm not a host." I pull the tray higher up to my chest and smile, "Just a waiter."

"But all the hosts are boring," the blonde giggles. "You're new. Please, please dance with us?"

"Isn't there anything else I could do for you?" I ask, worrying my lip. "I really am a terrible dancer."

They trade another glance, and the brunette answers with heavy eyelids, "Drop the tray and come with us. Don't worry, you don't have to dance."

"I really shouldn't," I laugh, clutching the tray tighter. It's starting to get uncomfortable. They're looking at me like I'm fresh meat. The blonde's hand reaches up to fiddle with the silky petals of the rose in my lapel. I startle.

"Please don't do that."

"What? This?" She teases, moving away from the flower and dragging her hand down my arm to pop open the button on my cuff.

I take a step back and nod nervously, "Y- Yeah, please don't do that. It makes me uncomfortable."

"Does it?" The brunette hisses, popping the button on my other cuff. No one from the host club taught me how to reject ladies, only how to smile and gently brush their hair back and tell them they they're prettier than the sakura trees.

"Yes," I stammer, my face heating up in awkward anger. I think this may be their sick, twisted version of sexy and I think, maybe, they need to be gently reminded what sexy really is. Of course, I'm awkward, so I really can't, but-

"I've got to go," I choke out, cutting off my train of thought and sending it crashing into a fiery doom. "It was- nice talking to you girls."

I scurry away before they can continue.

 **I'm sorry for this chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Plot in next chapter, I swear!**

 **Thanks to Ackerman5613 for following and to YaoiRPAlley for a review that made my heart sparkle!**

 **Enjoy!**

I am sitting on a plush divan, my slacks rolled up to my knees, much to my visible chagrin. I tap my fingers irritably on my arm, my face turned resolutely away from the host who is looming around me, just watching.

"It's my turn to help," he finally says, as if talking to himself.

"I just want to dance again, that's all!" I protest.

"The only way to do that is to take it off," he replies, gently but sternly. "You have to gain your confidence back, Nao-chan. You have to prove that you can do things without it."

"I can't even walk without it," I say sadly.

"Do you want to dance again?"

"Of course."

"So take it off," he suggests.

"Fine!" I shoot back. I reach down to the rubber seal, undo the four clasps, and twist the seal off its counterpart. The leg is heavy, solid metal. I drop it onto the couch next to me. "Satisfied? Now I can't get up."

"Hm," Tamaki ponders, fingers to his chin. After a brief second, he bends down and pushes his shoulder under my arm, pulling me up. I yelp and wrap both of my arms around his neck in surprise.

"How is this helping!" I protest, fear raising my voice an octave.

"Come on, Nao-chan," Tamaki answers, his arm going around my waist to steady my back. "Take a step."

"I can't!" I cry, tightening my hold around his neck, clutching at his collar with terrified movements.

"What are you so scared of, Naoki-chan?" I raise my eyes to his from where I was staring stubbornly at the ground. His gaze is bright and fond but firm and determined. He actually, genuinely wants to help me. "It's just us."

"I don't want to fall," I admit quickly. "If I fall, I'm scared I won't ever get back up, Tamaki-chan."

"I'll keep you up, don't worry!" He laughs blithely. "Just take a step."

"With what leg?"

"You can do it," he urges.

"I'm scared," I say again, but unwrap one arm from around his neck and balance on my remaining leg.

"Me too," he admits quietly. I turn to look at him, surprised, and he only laughs his blithe laugh again.

Finally, my stomach dropping, I bend my knee and do an awkward half swing, half hop forward. My foot lands under me, on the side, and I collapse outward on my elbow. My glasses clatter off my face. Dull pain zips up to my shoulder.

"Naoki, are you-!"

"You dropped me," I mutter, sitting up and leaning backwards on my hands. "You said you'd keep me up."

"I'm sorry, Naoki-chan," he apologizes, kneeling in front of me. I can feel him slide my glasses behind my ears, and as he withdraws, he not-so-subtly brushes my too-long mahogany bangs.

"That's all," I say after a beat, taking his hand and leaning into him as he pulls me up and drops me onto the couch. I immediately refasten my leg. "No more for today, okay?"

 **_.-X-._**

It's been three weeks. Exactly.

"Hi there, Mai-kun!" The doctor greets cheerily, pulling her pain straw colored hair back in a ponytail.

"Hi, Kamizama-sama," I greet her morosely.

"Why so down?" She asks with her toothy smile, fiddling with some buttons on a blinking machine.

"Nothing, ma'am," I lie.

"Oh, Mai-kun," she giggles in her thirty year old sports mom way, "You can tell me. After all, you shouldn't lie to your doctor. Roll up your pants please."

I do, far enough up so she can inspect the seal. "Really, Kamizama-sama."

"Fine, fine,," She says sympathetically, pouting her painted candy pink lips. "How's it been working for you?"

"I'm having a little trouble adjusting," I admit, chewing on my tongue. "And the knee keeps popping out." She marks something on a clipboard, then bends over and unclasps my leg from its socket. She takes off the kneecap piece, shines a light inside, and gasps in her overdramatic way.

"Mai-kun, this one is broken!"

"C- Can you fix it?" I ask, twisting around and leaning forward to see what she's doing. Silently, she shakes her head.

"It's missing a piece that must have gotten left out during production." She must have seen my face fall because she gasps again and rushes over to kneel in front of my seat on the bench. "Don't worry, Mai-kun! I'll talk to my boss and have them contact the production company to see what we can do."

"Until then?" I prompt, glancing down to where my metal leg should be.

"I guess I'll have to get you a wheelchair or crutches," she sighs. "I'm so sorry, Mai-kun. It'll only be a few days."

"What!" I cry, slamming palms onto the paper-covered leather in frustration. She flinches back, and I angrily run my fingers through my hair. "I- I- No one can know! About my leg! Kamizama-sama, isn't there anything you can…"

"I'm sorry, Mai-kun." She returns to her friendly, cheery self while I slouch back into the bench. A few days! I won't be able to walk for days!

"Mai-kun!" The doctor singsongs. "Would you like crutches or a chair?"

Exasperated, I run my had over my eyes under my glasses, disheveling the frames. This is going to be a terrible week.

 **_.-X-._**

 _Day 1_

I managed to convince my doctor that no, no, I'll be fine without a wheelchair- I can do fine with crutches- I'd rather have crutches, really, ma'am.

Two soft knocks come at my bedroom door. I push my rolling desk chair back with my hands and catch myself on the doorknob. I open it a crack and ask the maid, "Yes?"

"It's lunchtime, Mai-sama. Would you like to take it downstairs?"

"Could you bring it up here?" I ask, pulling my knee up to my chin and resting my head on it. She nods and scampers off. I don't bother wheeling my chair back to my desk. I'm bored with watching cat videos anyway.

Instead, I push it backwards to my bed and grab my phone off my pillow. My eyes fall briefly on the salmon rose from the spring festival. Sighing, I flip open my phone. One new text message from ten minutes ago.

[Fujikoa_Haruhi_02]

It's Haruhi from school. I thought I should warn you; they're fifteen minutes from your house. Good luck.

I scoff at the text, and hastily tap out a reply.

[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]

Why?

His reply is instantaneous.

[Fujioka_Haruhi_02]

Something about a "commoner day of fun". I'm not sure.

[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]

Tell them to go away, please. I'm busy today.

as soon as I hit Send, I get another new message from an unknown number.

[King_Tamaki]

come outside nao-chan! *w* i command it as your king!

[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]

No. I'm busy. Haruhi-kun texted me. I don't want to today.

[King_Tamaki]

:-:fine we're coming in see you soon!n!

I groan, toss my phone down, and bury my head in my hands. I lean back in the chair, eyeing the open door just as the maid comes back in with my midday meal. She sets it on my desk and bows shallowly, "Enjoy, Mai-sama! You have guests in the foyer."

"Fine!" I shout angrily after her. I can hear her squeak with surprise. I shove my chair over to where my crutches are resting against the wall, snatch them up, and stagger awkwardly to my feet.

It takes me a significant amount of time to make my way to the foyer. My crutches click on the tiles, echoing the closer I get to the expansive entry hall. When I finally round the corner to stand at the rail, I call down, "What do you want!"

"What happened to your leg, Nao-chan!" Honey-senpai calls with his high, dramatic voice.

"It broke." I opted to wear shorts, as long pants would clearly be ruined, leaving the empty space under my leg completely obvious. "I texted you not to come."

"But we couldn't let you pass up a perfectly planned day of commoner fun!" Tamaki cries loudly.

"Geez, fine, I'll go!" I cave, starting slowly down the stairs, grinning nonetheless. It's so easy to smile around him.

The next thing I know, I'm in a limousine with my crutches propped against the seat next to me, on the way to a traveling festival stationed in Okinawa for spring.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks to natsumi456 for the follow and to Yolei199 for favoriting!**

 **Enjoy!**

"There are too many people here," I grumble to myself.

"You did agree to come," Kyoya mentions coldly.

"Your quality control ruined my leg," I shoot back, sticking out my tongue.

"The production manager of Saweusae Prosthetics ruined your leg," he corrects. I only shrug. I turn over my shoulder and ask Haruhi,

"What do you think?"

"Please don't get me involved in this," he begs shortly, shoulders slouching. He looks like he doesn't want to be here.

"I don't think it was Kyo-chan's fault!" Honey pipes up innocently from atop Mori's shoulders.

"Yeah, it was probably the company's fault if anything," one of the twins says. I shrug again.

"Stop talking about such depressing things on our day of fun!" Tamaki insists.

"This was a dumb idea, boss," the second twin complains. His brother elbows him, but is ignored.

"That's saying quite a bit, coming from you two," Kyoya jabs.

"Mommy, don't say such things!" Tamaki squeals, latching onto his shoulders.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I stop in the middle of walking and plop down on a nearby bench to answer it. I flick it open, watching everyone else move on loudly without me. "Hello? Naoki Mai."

"Yes? This is Kenjei of Saweusae Prosthetics. I'm calling to confirm an order from Ootori Group Hospitals."

"Yes."

"Wonderful." The voice on the other line speaks quickly, like he has somewhere else to be. Suddenly, his voice takes on a seriously quality. "Are you a dancer?"

"Y-Yes," I stammer, taken aback. "Why is that relevant?"

"Haha, very good," he deadpans. "Your order will be shipped to Ootori Group Hospitals in two business days. Thank you for your business and have a wonderful day."

"You too," I answer to a dead line. I drop my phone into my pocket and climb to my feet, leaning heavily on my right crutch. I waste no time pondering the call as excitement fills me. It feels like I've never even had a leg before and I can't wait to get one.

The festival is situated on a grassy lot across the street from the edge of the Okinawa business district. On one side, squat buildings of independent small businesses line the street. On the other, the large grassy field dissolves into the sand and reeds of the beach. The boardwalk is visible a few miles on the edge of the beach and a warm wind blows sea air between tent stalls, swirling with it the sounds of chatter and laughter and salted popcorn and cotton candy.

I swing on my crutches closer to the center of the festival. Music, primarily of flute and percussion, grows louder the closer I get. Through the last of the stalls, I see a group of about seven or ten young women, all with bare feet and brightly colored clothes, fluttering fabrics, and long, dark hair spinning around each other and stamping their feet and twirling their arms like the wind. Something about the dance is primaries and foreign and familiar. Tick-

I move both of my crutches to the front of my body and lean on them, transfixed. I rest my head on my shoulder, skewing my glasses slightly, and rolling my tongue between my teeth.

I could do that, if I only had my leg.

"There you are, Naoki-chan!" Honey calls. I can see his face over the crowd, as high up as he is. A hand falls gently on my shoulder, and the contact sends the clock lurching back to life. I run a hand through my hair and replace my crutches under my arms.

_.-X-._

 _Day Three_

 _[Ootori_Kyoya] [Fujioka_Haruhi_02] [King_Tamaki] [Little-Devil-Hikaru_] [Little-Devil-Kaoru_] [_Honey_Mitskuni_18] [Mori] has added [_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]_

[ _Ootori_Kyoya]_

 _I apologize for texting so early in the morning._

 _[Little-Devil-Hikaru_]_

 _It's ten._

 _[Ootori_Kyoya]_

 _I am aware._

 _[_Honey-Mitskuni-18]_

 _Kyo-chan woke me up! ;-;_

 _[Fujioka_Haruhi_02]_

 _What do you want? I want to go back to sleep._

 _[King_Tamaki]_

 _MY DARLING HARUHI WAS UP STUDYING? THIS IS UNACEPTABVLELE!_

 _[Little-Devil-Kaoru_]_

 _Calm down, boss._

 _[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]_

 _It's not even early. What do you want, Kyoya-kun?_

 _[Ootori_Kyoya]_

 _Obligatory host club meeting in an hour and a half. You know where._

 _[King_Tamaki]_

 _ONLY IM ALLOWED TO CALL MEETINGS KYOYA! - official host meeting in an hour and a hlaf!_

 _[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]_

 _I'm really confused. What's happening?_

 _[Fujioka_Haruhi_02]_

 _Are you guys serious?_

 _[Little-Devil-Hikaru_]_

 _I don't want to go. I'm staying home._

 _[King_Tamaki]_

 _YES U R!_

 _[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]_

 _Do I have to go?_

 _[Ootori_Kyoya]_

 _Yes._

 _[King_Tamaki]_

 _YES! don't worry nao-chan i will pick u up_

 _[Little-Devil-Kaoru_]_

 _Hikaru and I are picking Haruhi up! Called it! :P_

 _[Ootori_Kyoya]_

 _Call me, Tamaki. I have to discuss the outline of the meeting with you._

 _There is no one online._

 _There is no one online._

 _There is no one online._

I snap my phone shut and tug off my headphones, the cat live stream still rolling silently on my computer. I wheel my chair over to my closet, replace my sleep shirt with a clean one, grab a comb from my desk, and run it absently through my hair.

I wonder, what is this about?

_.-X-._

Fifteen minutes later, Tamaki showed up at my house and ten minutes after that, he's slamming the limo door after me and ushering me inside a retro ice cream parlor situated on a corner between two streets lined with two-story antique shops and cafès selling nothing but expensive cigarettes and huge hotdogs.

The corner booth is already filled with the whole host club. Honey is devouring a huge chocolate sundae energetically. As soon as we sit down on the slick red leather upholstered booth cushions, a short girl with fiery red hair tied up in a knot and a candy-striped skirt under a useless white apron appears at the head of our table.

"I'm Leiko Rin, I'll take your order."

"Soda please," Tamaki says happily. She scribbles something down that is way, way too long to just be soda, and turn to me. I shake my head and she saunters off behind the counter.

"Saweusae Prosthetics," Kyoya begins, opening his notebook flat on the table and turning it to reveal row upon row of neatly written notes in tiny characters. "The doctor that found that Naoki-kun's leg was malfunctioning discovered a mysterious substance hidden in a capsule where a rotary piece for the knee should have been."

"And?" One of the twins asks, resting his head in his hand, uninterested.

"They were pills," he states. He digs into his pocket and places a tiny bag of chalky white circular pills on the silver table.

The uninterested twin swears colorfully and Mori covers Honey's ears. Haruhi's eyes widen impossibly huge. Tamaki grabs my shoulder and clings to my shirt. A shiver wracks my body.

"Drugs," Haruhi murmurs questioningly.

"Yes, I do believe Saweusae Prosthetics has been smuggling drugs."

"What… Do we do?" I ask in awe, picking up the plastic bag between my finger and thumb. Tamaki takes it out of my hands and tosses it back on the counter like it's toxic.

"Call the police!" One of the twins exclaims.

"I have considered that," Kyoya remarks coolly, adjusting his glasses and scanning a thoughtful finger over the straight lines of notes on his page. "However, I have done extensive research and it seems as though Saweusae has thought of everything. I have come to the conclusion that they are bribing the public police force as far as Kyushu."

"Don't you have a private police force, Kyo-chan?" Honey asks, concerned. He knits his brows and furrows his lips in a very childlike manner.

"A private police force has no place in a public law system. They cannot legally arrest anyone."

"So what do we do, Kyoya?" Tamaki exclaims.

"If I had known that, I would not have had to call this meeting," he states venomously.

"You're not exactly the smartest group of boys, are you?" The waitress slides a soda across the table to stop only when Tamaki grabs it just before it's about to spill into his lap.

"Excuse me?" Haruhi asks.

"I said, you're not exactly smart." She slides into the booth so I have to scoot closer to Tamaki to avoid pushing her back off. "If you're so worried about the drugs, do something about it yourselves."

"And what would you suggest, Leiko Rin?" Kyoya asks calmly.

"Hm," she ponders, tapping a fingertip to her bottom lip. "All it takes to uncover a scandal to the public is a larger, more obvious scandal. Let's see. What does the public love more than tracking their idols?" She puts her hands on the table, scoots herself out of the booth, and disappears behind a corner into the employee workspace.

I move back to where I was sitting before, but something pokes the side of my thigh. I reach for it and bring it into the light. It's a shiny obsidian black pearl charm inlaid in a flowery sterling silver ring.

"What's that, Nao-chan?" Tamaki asks.

"I don't know," I shrug, and pocket it. My phone buzzes, and I flip it open.

"Hello? Naoki Shun Mai."

"This is Ootori Group Hospitals. We're calling to inform you that Kaori Mai experienced a minor heart attack at ten twenty-eight am this morning," the voice on the other end says gravely. "She is in critical condition."

"Oh," I respond dryly. "Th- Thank you for calling." The line goes dead, and I replace my phone next to the charm in my pocket.

"Guys," I say, cutting the clamour of urgent voices, "my sister is in critical condition. Can… Anyone drive me to the hospital?"

 **So… Yeah.**

 **If you've read any of my OC fics before, (Ouran Infiltrated, The Indigo Illusionist, Psyche) you'll know about my Name Game! If you don't, the Name Game is a puzzle I put in each of my stories involving the entomology and/or relevance of the OCs' names! If you have any interest in playing, post a comment with your answers and the solution will be revealed in the next chapter!**

 **Until then!**


	7. Chapter 7

**DON'T HATE ME PLEASE.**

 **I have so many thanks to give out! Thanks to Dat boiii for two follows and two favorites; to YaoiRPAlley for reviewing once again; to basketball4444 for favoriting, and to AmazingForever for favoriting.**

 **In fact, a special shoutout regarding AmazingForever's review- kudos to your bravery! I never would have thought people could be so brave as to advertise their own story in another person's review section. In fact, I thought it was rude and completely out of line, but I guess I was wrong!**

 **So please enjoy this late update!**

The sleek automatic doors slide open soundlessly. Kyoya approaches the front desk with authority and asks the lady behind it, "Do you have status on Mai Kaori?"

She drops a bottle of Coke on the floor and stammers, "Mister Ootori! I- I- um," she taps furiously on her keyboard, "a coma patient. Just had a heart attack. Stabilized. Um… Um…"

"Room number?"

"Eight oh four."

"Thank you."

I lean forward on my crutches as he rejoins us. Kyoya had to go, considering it's his family's hospital, and insisted that a smaller group would be best. Tamaki followed Kyoya and I out to his car and whined until Kyoya said he could come.

"She's stable," Kyoya says. "Do you want to go see her?" I nod silently. He leads us to an elevator bank, presses a button, and we reach a door on the eighth floor. Kyoya knocks and enters.

"Naoki!" My elder sister squeals. Her face is gaunt and pale, the flower birthmark on her chin strangely prominent. Her dyed moonlight silver hair is dull and her dark, almost ebony eyes are clouded. "My god, Naoki, what happened to your leg? Don't we have to get to your performance! We gotta go! Where are mom and dad? Can you call dad's secretary and tell her-"

"Kaori," I stop her. "Don't you remember?"

"Well, no. I do thinks it's kinda weird that I'm in a hospital when we're supposed to be at the theater. Speaking of which, why aren't we?"

"There was a crash," I supply, lowering myself to the edge of her bed.

"A crash?" She mimics, uncharacteristically quiet. "What happened?"

"You've been in a coma for about three and a half weeks."

"Oh!" She laughs, but even I can tell it's strained. "That's why I'm at the hospital!"

"Dad is at home on breathing tubes."

"And mom?" She asks with a smile.

"Dead," I mutter. "So is the secretary."

Her face falls and tears roll down her cheeks. She raises a hand and presses the heel of her palm to one of her eyes. Finally, she chokes, "And you?"

"My prosthetic leg comes tomorrow."

"Naoki!" She sobs. Her free hand grasps my wrist, her long nails with chipped bubblegum pink polish digging into my skin. "Is she really gone? You're… Not just… Kidding?"

"She's gone, Kaori," I mutter. "Crying won't bring her back."

"I'm sorry," she chokes on her tears and sniffles. "I- I- I just… You know…"

"Yeah," I mutter bitterly. "I'll bring you something tomorrow, okay?"

"Bye Naoki," she sniffs. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." I pull myself up and swing to the doorway. Without another word, I push past Tamaki and Kyoya in the hallway and jam the elevator button with my arm. The door dings open and the three of us crowd inside.

The trip back is silent.

_.-X-._

"Again!" I exclaim.

"WAHHHHH!" Tamaki cries.

"Get your hands out of my leg!" I laugh, shooing at curious fingers that try to poke at my brand new metal limb. I replace the ill-fitting plastic capsule full of those chalky white pills with a metal ball ordered from Amazon just in case something like this were to happen.

"We have to go to the police!" One of the twins insists.

"I agree with Kaoru," Haruhi inputs. "We can't let this continue."

"I have already explained every reason we cannot," Kyoya states bitterly. "I must admit, even I am at a loss."

I screw in the panel and experimentally bend my knee. It works flawlessly. "So, what about what that girl said?" I wonder aloud. "Something about discovering new scandals with smaller ones."

"Didn't we say we'd never take her advice again?" The second twin inputs venomously. There's silence for an awkward beat.

"It's a bad idea to listen to her, right, Takashi?" Honey pipes up. Mori nods slowly, carefully. I chew on my lip.

"She's a bad person, but isn't she also really good at this kind of thing?" Haruhi argues. "I mean, do we have any better ideas?"

Silence falls again, for much longer this time.

"The only way we could stop this is to bankrupt the company," Kyoya changes the subject.

"How?"

"Simple; we must turn their customers against them."

"How?"

"Reveal their drug smuggling, of course."

"How?"

"That," he admits, "I do not know."

"What if we release a gorilla?" Tamaki bubbles.

"Moron," Kyoya sighs. He scribbles something in his black notebook.

It's very, very clear that this isn't really going anywhere. And I'm not really being much help anyway, so I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder.

"Naoki," Kyoya warns, "where are you going?"

"I have things to do," I lie. "Besides, I think I could come up with some good ideas if I'm dancing."

Before he can deny me or agree, I'm already out the door and around the corner before anyone can bother to open the door. I can't exactly run with a prosthetic leg, but I walk as fast as I can to the ballet room.

I drop my bag, blazer, and glasses in a pile and kick my shoes off to the side. The new leg required a different seal, and this time, my skin doesn't burn when I put weight on it. It almost feels as if I have a real leg again.

I press my earbuds into my ears and Winter Wind's first notes play. The song starts off slow and calm, then there's a heartbeat of a pause, and I am poised in a half crouch. Then, the music blasts in a dizzying series of quick eighth notes and I can almost, almost move just as quickly.

_.-X-._

My forehead is pressed against the cool plaster, and out of the corner of my eye, I can make out my own figure in the mirror. Though it's just blurs of color, I know that my honey brown eyes are alight and I know I'm smiling.

My chest hurts, and my breath comes in gasps. My toes ache because at one moment I forgot I was barefoot and I had accidentally tried to dance en pointe but it had only failed.

Nevertheless, I don't think I've been as happy since before the crash.

I strain my ears and listen. My smile widens. The clock has gone silent. The only sound is my ragged breathing that is most definitely not even like a clock.

_.-X-._

"Hi Kaori," I greet, opening the thin plaster and wood hospital door.

"Naoki!" She squeals, clapping her hands together. "Ohhh! Let me see!"

I plop down in a plastic chair and roll up my slacks. "It's not as bad as it looks," I assure her as her smile falls. "I can dance in this one."

"Nao, that's so cool!" She grins. "Guess what? They said I could go the day after tomorrow! I can't wait to go home and see dad!"

"Yeah," I mutter. "I brought you something." I take a book out of my school bag and pass it to her.

"Aw thanks Nao! Say, aren't you supposed to be in school?"

"Kind of," I admit. "It's club time and this new club I accidentally joined is wrapped up in a weird drug scandal and this girl who none of them really trust told them the only idea they could think of but-"

"Naoki!" Kaori cries. "Go to the police!"

"We can't. They have the police bribed or something."

Her mouth flounders in surprise. I sigh and push myself up off the chair. "Sorry, Kaori. We're not in any danger, I promise. Bye."

"Bye, Naoki," she mumbles.

_.-X-._

The courtyard is bathed in spring morning syrupy sunlight and flashing red and blue lights. I slam my car door, secure my bag on my shoulder, and run.

It's utter chaos. The South building is completely sectioned off by yellow tape. Babbling young ladies, their eyes wide and hands clutched close to their hearts, crowd around the tape. Young men with their bright blue blazers and their eyes shifting about suspiciously hang close to the edge of the group. Policemen with navy coats and shiny black helmets stand sturdy at the edge of the sectioned off area, gloved hands out menacingly.

"Nao-chan!" I look down. Honey-senpai is teary-eyed and pale. "The night guard found it, Nao-chan, and the host club is in big trouble!"

"H- How'd you get away?" I ask, peering over the heads bobbing in my vision.

"Takashi helped but now he and everyone else are stuck inside, Nao-chan!"

Fear jumps to my throat. The police! The night guard found the drugs! The whole club is about to be arrested!

At that moment, a policeman raises a megaphone to his lips and shouts over the sirens and terrified chatter, "We are looking for a young man with an amputated leg by the name of Naoki Shun Mai, a boy called Mitskuni Haninozuka, and a girl called Leiko Rin."

Heat rushes to my face. Someone next to me does a double take and locks her eyes with mine. She raises her finger to her lips, winks at me, and lowers it. Her braided leather charm bracelet glints. Leiko Rin.

Silence falls. People look around. I turn up my collar and Honey takes a step backward. Finally, after a breathless silence, a third year from off to the left shouts, "Right there!" And a hundred faces turn in our direction.

The policemen at the front break off into the crowd, carving grooves into a sea of people. Leiko Rin leans closer to me and says, "If you want to get away, you may want to do it now."

"Honey-senpai?" I ask, my eyes locked on the approaching navy blue. They're so close now I can see the handcuffs dangling from their belts. "What… What do we do?"

His voice iron, he grabs my hand and says, "Run, Nao-chan!"

"I can't!" I protest, following behind him nevertheless. He's already far ahead of me and obviously holding back so I can catch up. Electricity jumps up my body every time the rubber seal jolts against what's left of my leg. I turn over my shoulder. The police are right there, their gloved hands straining.

Fingers close vice-like around my wrist. My arm yanks in its socket and I hit the ground. The courtyard stone is wet from last night's rain. My arms are forced behind my back and something cold and tight and sharp clicks into place around my wrists.

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law." I half stumble, half climb to my feet. A few policemen continue on and two stay by my side. Honey locks eyes with me, but turns around quickly and continues running, this time quicker, hopping around in the thinning crowd like a rabbit. Leiko Rin is nowhere to be found.

They march me, however slowly with my worsening limp, straight into the taped off area, and up the stairs to the third music room. The doors are unlocked by another set of policemen and the handcuffs disappear as soon as I'm inside.

"Naoki-kun!" Haruhi greets me urgently. "What happened? What's going on?"

"I don't know!" I exclaim. "There are policemen. Honey-senpai told me that a night guard found the drugs Saweusae sent."

In the middle of the room, Kyoya is shouting at the twins, one of whom is on the verge of tears and the other with his arm around his brother's shoulders and shouting right back.

"Naoki!" In a whirl of cyan and golden and amethyst, Tamaki embraces me and withdraws with his hands on my shoulders. "What happened?"

"What's going on?" I counter. My throat feels heavy, like I'm about to cry. "Are we going to jail?"

"Kyoya told the twins to take care of the… you-know-what, but they forgot." Tamaki sighs.

"You're awfully calm," I notice.

"I'm the king," he laughs. "If I couldn't be there for my family, that wouldn't mean much, would it?"

"Mori-senpai?" Haruhi asks.

"Mitskuni?" Mori questions.

"Still running," I answer. "And they're looking for Leiko Rin too, but I don't think they're going to find her."

"That's it!" Haruhi exclaims. He stamps over to where the scouting has reached a peak, waves his arms, and tells them to shut up. "The best way to reveal a scandal is to make a bigger one, right?"

"This is our scandal," Kyoya mutters. He flips open his notebook, furiously scribbles, and finally looks up. "Haruhi, will you help me write out our court statement?"

"Sure." The two sit on one of the couches and lean over table to talk in quiet voices.

 **Here's the Name Game:**

 **Naoki Shun Mai- Naoki means honest or straight. Shun can mean either fast or talented. Mai means dancer. Together, the name means honest, talented dancer which I find to be forever amusing.**

 **Leiko Rin- Leiko means arrogant person in Japanese (additionally, if you search the name in Google and click on the first-names link, you get a whole paragraph describing how people named Leiko are associated). Rin means cold.**


	8. Chapter 8

**There are at least two things I need to apologize for. 1) I was gone too long because I'm a little bitch. 2) This whole chapter.**

 **So basically the whole club is screwed and I have no idea what to do with Leiko Rin yet.**

 **Enjoy, if you can!**

"Tried as adults?" Haruhi exclaims.

"Yes, ma'am," the policewoman drawls. "Two of the convicted are legally eighteen, so the court ruled that all of you are to be tried as adults."

"Did you really have to take my leg?" I spit, tapping my one foot on the concrete fl'oor.

"I'm sorry," she lies. "You're not allowed to have any metal on you."

The only thing in an overnight holding cell besides a wooden bench is a tin toilet. Tamaki is pacing the cell. Kyoya is sitting next to me on the bench. Haruhi is clutching the bars, her knuckles turning white. The twins are sitting in one corner, tapping their fingers angrily. Mori is sitting cross legged in the other corner with a sleeping Honey on his lap, glaring at anyone who gets too loud.

"Don't worry miss, we reserved a court spot for you for tomorrow at two pm. Until then, you'll just have to wait." The policewoman tucks her clipboard under her arm and turns away.

"This is garbage!" One of the twins exclaims angrily. Mori glares at him until he shuts up.

"Did nobody think to explain the drugs?" Kyoya asks bitterly. No one looks at him.

"What time is it?" The quiet twin asks.

"Nearly nine," The loud one answers. The quiet one yawns and promptly falls asleep on his brother's shoulder. Mori is already blinking blearily. Haruhi slips off her uniform jacket, balls it up, and uses it as a pillow.

I sigh, move off the bench, and lay across the floor with my own jacket under my head. The stone is cold and it seeps into my bones.

_.-X-._

I jolt awake, sitting up quickly on my hands. The police sirens still ring in my ears. I look around, seeing nothing but darkness and cold, cold stone under my hands.

"Can't sleep either?" Someone whispers through the darkness.

"No," I answer, my voice little more than a breath. "Nightmares."

With a rustle of cloth, a warm arm drapes around my shoulders. I lay back down slowly. The stone is still cold, but this time a warm chest is pressed into my back. I shiver involuntarily, and his arms tighten around me.

"It's okay," he whispers.

_.-X-._

"Hey! Hey! Get up!" A rough hand pounds on the holding cell's bars. Cold and bleary, I roll over and press my face into the warmth. However, fingers begin to attack my side, and I jolt and sit up, laughing and slapping the fingers away.

"We're leaving for the court soon," a gruff voice announces. I pat my hand around for my glasses, but they're slid onto my face. I open my eyes and Tamaki is looking at me, smiling his sunny smile.

"Morning," he greets cheerily.

"Is it?" I yawn.

The whole club is sitting up and rubbing their eyes. I shake the wrinkles out of my jacket, slip it back on, and redo my tie. As everyone is silently combing their hair out with their fingers, a pair of policemen unlock the door, usher us into an uneven line, and handcuff our wrists behind our backs. However, they have to cuff me to a crutch so I can actually walk.

We are marched out to a shiny black car and driven to a huge columned courthouse.

"The defense," someone is announcing loudly, and the door is opened. "Eight high school students accused of possessing and selling the drug known as Music. Who would you like to represent you?"

I look at Tamaki. His eyes are wide. He's scared.

"Well, boss?" One of the twins mutters.

"Fujioka Haruhi," he finally announces. Murmurs whisper around the courtroom. Haruhi blanches.

"S- Senpai, I don't have a court license-"

"Don't worry, you'll do great," Tamaki assures. He leads us to a dark table, and we all crowd around.

"All rise," the same voice is announcing. Mori helps me to my feet just as a little, wrinkled lady in robes that are far, far too big for her small form, shuffles into the judge's stand.

"The court presents the case of Ouran High School versus the Ouran Highschool Host Club, accused of possessing and selling the drug known as Music. Opening statements."

I look over. At the other table, I recognize the guard uniform of Ouran, a black garment cut in a professional fashion. One of the twins mutters something about it being horrendous.

A sturdy-looking man with salt and pepper hair and a square jaw turns to the double row of people sitting attentively off to one side,

"Jury. As we can clearly see, these children are nothing more than delinquents. They use their good looks to trick the ladies at their school into buying drugs. And where do they get these drugs? They smuggle them in through that one's prosthetic leg!" A square finger is pointed at my face. I jolt in my seat.

"See? He is cracking under the pressure of guilt! We already have evidence. There's nothing more to say!" The square man falls back in his chair with a decisive nod.

"Defendant opening statement," the old lady's tiny, needy eyes scans our faces. "Where's your attorney?"

"Here, Your Honor." Haruhi stands, straightens her jacket, and clears her throat.

"Your Honor, I'm afraid this is all a misunderstanding. Naoki-kun," Haruhi holds her hand out to me. With a start, I take it and swing into the middle of the floor space. Haruhi continues, "My friend Naoki-kun was in a car crash about four weeks ago and had his leg amputated. He ordered a prosthetic from Saweusae Prosthetics, but it didn't work.

"His doctor at Ootori Group Hospitals found pills in a capsule inside the leg."

Murmurs rise again. The old lady taps a little wooden hammer against her desk and calls for order. It goes silent again.

"Your first witness?"

The night guard stands shakily and climbs up to the witness box. The square lawyer man rests his arms on the division wall.

"Did you not find white pills in the third music room in Ouran Academy's South building?"

"I- I did," the night guard stammers.

"And when you took the capsule to the police that night, did they find fingerprints of one Kyoya Ootori?"

"Yes."

"Naoki Mai?"

"Yes."

"Tamaki Suoh?"

"Yes."

"There you have it!" The square man exclaims. "Proof that at least three of these people here touched that capsule!"

"Defendant, your first witness?"

I shoot up from my chair, one hand steady on the table. My gaze scans the crowd, and I lock eyes with someone in the audience, clutching her manicured hands together in anticipation and nervousness. I sit back down and whisper something to Mori, and he to Honey, and so on until it reaches Haruhi's ears.

"We'd like to call miss Kamizama-sama to the stand."

She stands, wobbles, and makes her way to sit in the divisioned section. Haruhi strides up confidently and shakes her hand.

"Miss Kamizama, is it true you're Naoki Mai's doctor?" Haruhi asks.

"Yes, I am. I observed his amputation and have been treating him since," Kamizama says, her voice hard yet gentle.

"About a week ago, did Naoki-kun visit you with a problem about his prosthetic leg?"

"Yes."

"And what was wrong with it?"

"There was a…" she gulps, "a plastic capsule full of white pills where the rotary ball for the knee should have been."

There's a commotion, a lot of banging from the little wooden hammer, and in a whirlwind of color, the rows of people called Jury and the little old lady are gone.

I look around, and down the row of my classmates. Honey is leaning forward in anticipation. Mori's arm is around him protectively. Kyoya's hands are resting on the table, but tapping faintly. Tamaki is strangely still. The twins are clutching one another, breath bated. Haruhi's eyes are dark, clouded, and angry.

As she passes me, Kamizama gives my shoulder a small pat. I sit up straighter.

The little old lady shuffles back into her seat and Jury files into their own. The old lady flutters her papers together, taps her little hammer once, and says, "The jury finds the defendants not guilty."

The silence breaks, and the people in the audience get up to leave. Tamaki pops up from his seat and throws his fists into the air. "You did it Haruhi!" He exclaims, spinning her around. "I knew you could do it!"

"Thanks, senpai!" Haruhi laughs, not protesting the rotary torture.

Honey jumps on Mori, who hugs him, elated. The twins cheer simultaneously.

My chest is full to burst.

Finally, Tamaki stops spinning Haruhi around and scurries around the table. He stops at me, pulls me to my foot, and hugs me.

"We won, Naoki!" He laughs.

_.-X-._

I'm relieved that Tamaki is back to his carefree self. Serious Tamaki disturbs me a little bit. He looks too professional, too… not Tamaki. Thus, I agreed with no prompting, unlike Haruhi and Kyoya, to a celebratory sleepover two nights after our night spent in a holding cell.

Just as I agreed first, I also just happen to be the first to arrive, though even I'm about ten minutes late.

"Naoki-chan!" Tamaki squeals as soon as the door is flung open. "I thought you'd never get here!"

"Where's everyone else?" I question as he stands aside to allow me to pass.

"They're not here yet. But now that you're here, you can help me think up ideas for games!" He bolts up a grand staircase, jumping up and down as I limp up. "I heard commoners play sleepover games like Dare and Truth and Bottle Spinning!"

"You've never played Truth or Dare?" I exclaim as I crest the staircase. "It's not just a commoner game; children everywhere play it."

"Well, I stayed inside most of my childhood and I never really had any playmates." He runs his fingers through his golden hair sheepishly. "That's why I'm so glad I get to play with you all now."

"Really?" My voice comes out a little bit too excited. "If you never played Truth or Dare as a kid, what did you even do all day?"

"Mostly I stayed inside and played the piano for my mother."

"You play?"

"Well, yeah."

"Can you show me?"

He stops in his tracks, glances at me, and opens a door off the side of the hallway. He waves me inside.

The room is huge, and it actually reminds me of the music room with cool pink tiles and warm plaster walls and huge, arching bay windows. There's a black piano right in the center of the room, shiny and in amazing condition. Tamaki shuts the door behind me and sits at the bench.

On a whim, I slide in next to him.

He begins to play. It forces a smile to my face.

"Spring Waltz, from Vivaldi's Four Seasons," I recognize. "This was the song I auditioned for Swan Lake with."

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks quietly.

"No." In fact, quite the opposite. I want to hear the song again. I want to feel it. No, not the song. I want to hear him play it.

I can remember my routine. I had drilled it into my memory over and over. I had accidentally memorized the chords to the song, until I found myself humming it in the shower or in the car. Maybe, maybe it'll work again.

I don't think I stand up. I don't exactly consciously pick up the routine. I do know it's about half a beat off tempo and I only know that because the clock isn't ticking. I only realize now that it never ticks when I'm with Tamaki, because only when I'm with him does the world fail to follow patterns and rules.

"Naoki."

My step falters on my metal leg and it collapses under me. I hit the tile and my glasses clatter onto the floor.

"Naoki, are you okay?"

I push myself up and blink at the concerned blur.

"Yeah. I'm great."

"Nao-"

"Tamaki, there's something I need you to do for me," I cut him off. He blinks at me.

"What?"

Heat rises to my cheeks. "I- I, uhm, I need you to… Um…," I stammer. He laughs his sunny laugh, and suddenly, he's really close to me, so close I can see the amethyst in his eyes.

"You don't have to ask." His hand falls on my shoulder. "Just do it."

"I- I can't," I admit quietly. My gaze falls solemnly on the floor next to me.

"That's okay."

He pushes forward and presses his mouth to mine.

Kiss, I remember. The word is kiss. Somehow, it doesn't feel like a kiss. It feels more acute. I can taste vanilla on his lips. I can feel how soft his hair is, his fingers ghosting over the rim of my ear. No, there's no way this is a kiss.

 **_.-X-._**

My heart had jumped into my throat and my face is still hot even when everyone else finally arrives. Haruhi and I trade an awkward glance, but mine is probably more justified, since I'd never seen her wear pink before. But that isn't my biggest problem.

At the top of my Biggest Problems list is one Tamaki Suoh and the fact that he's acting not at all embarrassed. Well, that could work to our advantage since I don't think either of us want anyone to find out that we shared a kiss, but still. He could at least pass me a glance every once in awhile.

"Nao-chan and I decided on the first game we all shall play!" Biggest Problem Tamaki announces. I cross my arms over my hoodie and silently pray that he won't pick Spin the Bottle.

"Please don't say Spin the Bottle," Haruhi mutters, just loud enough that only Mori and I can hear her.

"We are going to play Hide and Seek! Kyoya, you go first!"

I sigh, praising his childishness.

Reluctantly, but knowing even he can hardly resist Tamaki's bubbly, upbeat attitude, Kyoya allows himself to be led into one corner and, at Tamaki's prompting, begins counting down from thirty.

Hide and Seek has never been my favorite game, but sometimes, there's not really much you can do. Honey is pulling Mori away delightedly. Haruhi stalks off. The twins yawn lazily, bored, and one of them takes out a handheld game. I sigh yet again. In fact, Hide and Seek loses its thrill sometime after middle school's first year.

I shove my hands in my pockets and wander off down a winding path of hallways. I try to remember my route: right, left, second left, through a whitewashed door, right again, until I reach a short hall with a glass door at the far end.

Interested, I touch the gold door handle. The foot-by-foot glass panels are covered by a lime curtain. Suddenly, it clicks open and I almost fall through.

It's a door that leads to an outdoor garden. There's a tiny lake and two pastel pink cherry blossom trees surrounded by beds of cream white roses. Between the trees is a wooden bench with flaking blue paint.

I brush blossoms off the seat of the bench. It creaks under my weight.

 **_.-X-._**

Sundown.

I blink awake. The sun is low and warm, tinting the sky pink and orange. There's a hand on my shoulder.

"You finally found me?" I ask. "Took you long enough."

The hand disappears. I follow it with my eyes, adjusting my glasses on my face.

"Hey, who are you?" I shoot up, wobbling on my metal leg. Two huge, muscled, black-gloved hands close around my eyes and mouth.


	9. Chapter 9

**Wow. Yup. Just so everyone knows, I'm dropping this weird af "plot" for more relevant internal conflict centered around character growth, toying with characterization, and, you guessed it, romance. I'm thinking of adding more twins.**

 **Anyway, thanks to GuyFromGa11frey for following and favoriting, to cbrown0925 for following, and to the guest reviewer [NOTE: Yeah. I agree. I know nothing about court or my own plot apparently so that's great.]!**

 **Enjoy!**

There's a sharp pain behind my ear that stings with every movement. A car, I recognize. I'm in a car. And there's something tight and rough digging into my wrists. And something like linen stuffed into my mouth that tastes faintly salty.

It's dim, and my glasses are hanging dangerously low off my nose, but I can see. The windows are pitch black but there's a battery-powered camping lamp sitting innocently on the floor of the van.

I blink. It takes me a moment to recognize him. Kyoya. His head is hanging low, his mouth covered. His shoulder is pressed into mine. I lean into him, nudging urgently. His head jolts up, whips around, and finally rests on me.

I use my tongue to push the bundle of foul cloth out of my mouth. It falls on my lap limply, and I gag at the aftertaste. I nudge Kyoya again, and he turns to me. I lean forward and whisper in his ear.

"Hang on and hold still. I've read a lot of mystery novels." I feel him nod slowly.

Awkwardly, hesitantly, I find the edge of his gag with my teeth and jimmy it until he yanks his head away and shakes it out.

"We've been kidnapped?" I whisper.

"Clearly." He blinks heavily. "There is a GPS on my cellphone."

"They didn't take my leg," I notice.

"Naoki-kun," Kyoya sighs heavily in his normal voice. "We're alone."

"Oh." I let silence fall.

It's actually weird. I expect I'm supposed to feel scared or angry or something, but I just feel numb. There's nothing I can really do, so I just have to wait and hope that someone is going to come set us free or feed us eventually.

"Why do you think they did it?" I ask, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Kidnap us, I mean."

"If I had to guess, they're from Saweusae."

"Do you happen to know how to escape a zip tie?" I ask.

"Theoretically, yes."

"Great." I grin. "So do I. Mystery novels actually come in handy, don't they? In middle school, people always made fun of me because I was always reading them, but I guess I'm the one laughing now, right?"

"Is talking your way of coping with stress?" Kyoya shoots indifferently.

"Maybe," I respond lightly. "I've never been kidnapped before."

"Until you figure it out, please be quiet and try to escape."

"Sure, Mommy," I joke. "Why does he call you that anyway?"

"He's a moron." Kyoya grunts and yanks on his bonds. I glance at him and raise my hands to my teeth. I tuck my thumbs under my palms, bite the empty space, and slide my thumb through the empty space where my other palm is. My left hand slides free and the zip tie falls around my right forearm. I brandish my free hands triumphantly.

"Ta-da!"

"Congratulations," Kyoya smirks, and pops free of his own zip tie. He turns around in his seat and presses his face to the black tinted window. "There's nothing outside."

"Well, it's nighttime," I note.

"No…," he ponders. "We're underground."

"Oh! I read that! They're probably holding us for ransom."

"Of course," Kyoya sighs. "Perhaps they consider this some kind of warning to us to file a lawsuit against their company." He ducks around me to jiggle one of the van's doors. "Sealed."

Bored, I climb up to the passenger seat to jiggle the door handle. Of course, locked. I lean over to the steering wheel and slam the horn, but it makes no noise. "Kyoya-kun, there's a box up here."

I pull the neat cardboard box into my lap and tear open the flaps. There are four bottles of water packed in tightly around a handful of granola bars and a thin envelope. Kyoya reaches around the seat, takes the envelope, and rips it open.

"Mister Ootori and Mister Mai," he reads, "those behind your kidnapping are good people. We're not going to hurt you unless your friends don't comply. We've given them a twenty-four hour window to pay your ransom. If and when you are released, we suggest you don't speak of this and don't press charges." He flips the letter over a few times and finally drops into a seat.

"Wow," I sigh. "This is really happening, huh?"

"Unfortunately."

"You're really… soft-spoken," I observe, sitting next to him. "We hardly ever talk."

"Perhaps that's because I don't particularly enjoy your company," he snaps.

"Why?" Angry heat rushes up my neck. He doesn't answer. I sigh; this is going to be a long twenty-four hours.

_.-X-._

We're in a coffin. That's what this is. It's a coffin.

Stop. Panic. Stop panicking.

It took quite a while for terror to kick in. I think I started to feel it when the heat grew to be overwhelming. It's all carbon dioxide soon, no oxygen. It was then that my throat closed in and my lungs imploded.

"If you continue to hyperventilate, you'll use all the oxygen quickly,"

"Buried alive!" I throw my hands in the air, pacing back and forth, hunched over, with only about three steps of room on either side. "How are you not stressed out?"

"The others may be idiots, but they're all good people," Kyoya assures. "Sit down, Naoki-kun."

"I don't really like small spaces," I complain, plopping into a seat across from Kyoya and running my hands through my hair, "Or being kidnapped. Or cars."

"Be quiet," Kyoya orders. I peer at him through my fingers. One of his hands is raised and his head is cocked curiously.

A heartbeat after he finishes, I hear sounds. Chaos from outside. We shoot up and he presses his ear against the industrial back door.

"What is it?" I ask excitedly.

"It seems to be voices."

Just then, on the other side of the door, something huge crashes into it and a small dent presses the loosely welded seam apart. We scramble backwards as another crash rings through our metal coffin and the hooked end of a crowbar is jammed through. The door is peeled back slowly, rolled in on itself until there's a gap where one side of the door used to cover.

It's still dark outside, maybe the morning hours when early risers are considering getting out of bed. It's warm for early spring, and the smell of a rebirthing forest pervades the coffin's stale air. The sky is cotton gray and tall pine trees are nothing more than huge shadows in the dim light.

"Are you coming?"

"What are you doing here?" Kyoya asks bitterly.

"Well, turns out, Saweusae realized that if they left you alive, you'd probably shut down their company. They're on their way."

"Where is everyone else?" I ask, hopping out of the back door of the car and looking around.

We're in a piney forest. Occasionally, I can hear the odd car zoom by. The van we were trapped in is buried mostly in a muddy cliff side.

"They payed the ransom hours ago, of course, but when they didn't hear back, they panicked. The police are looking for you now." Leiko Rin laughs and fiddles with her woven leather bracelet. "I almost had to add another charm."

"Where do we go?" I ask, mostly to myself.

"The police, of course," Kyoya responds, glancing around. "If I had to guess, we are approximately twenty miles from Ouran Academy."

"H- How do you know?" I blanch.

"There aren't many pine trees in Japan."

A light cuts through the trees, catching Leiko Rin's hair and illuminating it to a fiery quality. Another light joins it, broken through boughs of pine needles, and a third.

"The police?" I ask, my voice cracking.

"No," Leiko Rin practically sings. "You better go. The road is towards your left."

I look at Kyoya curiously. He nods once as if to acknowledge her, then turns and heads toward the left. I quicken my steps to catch up with him.

"Didn't you say that she's untrustworthy?" I ask.

"I admit I don't know her motives, but she did help us, after all." He looks down at me from the corner of his eye. "Besides, do you have a better plan?"

"What if they're the police?"

"The police have sirens on their cars, Naoki."

"Right, right." We fall silent as we break through the trees and step onto the road pavement. I can hear shouts behind us, angry and confused. A flashlight beam darts around my feet.

There's an anthill nestled between the raised pavement and the bed of dark brown pine needles. It's dark and silent, until a huge boot carelessly kicks it aside. Tiny black dots that I can only see because they're darker than the shadows around them spill out frantically.

The clock is ticking erratically, tiktiktik- tik… tik… tik tik tik tiktiktik- loudly enough that I can hardly hear, hardly feel.

I'm fast. I'm light on my feet. After all, I dance ballet. I startle away from the presence behind me, grab the front of Kyoya's shirt, and half stumble, half jump into the middle of the road.

The flashlight beam darts over my face and drops down, jumping up and down and up and down with the tik tik ticking, so quickly and unevenly that I think the milky, fluorescent light blinding me and framing the side of Kyoya's face is a flashlight at first, but something breaks the even ticking, something I know I've heard before; the screeching of rubber on pavement.

_.-X-._

"...wasn't serious… driver braked in time…"

"Will they be…?"

"Yes. A… fractured left femur… Light concussion…"

I've heard this before. I've been in this situation before. Faint sunlight, road burns, smoke and metals and sirens and-

"Mister Mai? Can you hear my voice?"

"...Hurts," I mutter.

"You have a slight concussion." The paramedic is a faint blur.

"Kyoya?" I ask.

"A fractured left femur and minor head trauma. He'll be fine."

I blink. One of the lenses of my glasses are popped out. I adjust them, brush mud off the glass, and look around.

The one lane road cutting through the forest is packed. There's an ambulance sitting square and icy off to one side while two police squad cars are jammed into the road one behind the other.

Mori and Honey are talking calmly to an officer. One of the twins is pacing back and forth, gesturing wildly to his brother. Tamaki is sitting close to Kyoya on the back of the ambulance, talking quietly to him as Kyoya drops his head into his hands exasperatedly.

I sit up. I'm laying on the side of the road. My vision swims in and out with vibrant spots of color.

"Hey, Naoki-kun."

"Haruhi," I recognize. "How… What happened?"

She kneels in front of me, sighs, and casts her eyes downward. "A lot, actually."

 **Honestly, I just wanted to write some meaningless action. And put Kyoya in a wheelchair because I'm feels vengeful after reading how different he is in the manga versus the anime and it kind of bothers me.**

 **(Note for those of you who had to look up where the femur is because I know I sure did: it's the thigh bone so he'd totally be in a wheelchair because one time this guy in my class broke his femur and he was in a wheelchair and I was in gym class with him when it happened and he was on the floor screaming and the teachers were trying to make him walk it off so yeah that's my story about public school XD)**


	10. Chapter 10

Host club activities were cancelled for the first week back to school. All the ladies who would have been at the club during lunch settle for the dining hall; it is absolutely abuzz with chatter and, unsurprisingly, gossip. I hesitate at a seat before turning around and promptly walking away.

I take my lunch to the music room, where everything is quiet and still. I drop it on a dark wooden table next to one of the empty vases and pull a chair out.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

"Hello?" I answer, flipping it open.

"Naoki Shun Mai?"

"Yes?"

"I'm producing a Summer performance of A Midsummer's Night Dream," I drop my fork and it clatters onto my plate. "Well, my friend's uncle directed Swan Lake last season and told me you were the guy to ask about."

"I- You want me?" I ask incredulously. My hand hurts from gripping the phone so hard.

"Yeah. All the theater communities are saying you disappeared without making your debut. I thought it was such a waste, so how about you come audition next Saturday?"

"I- I-" I take a deep breath and compose myself. "Ma'am, I only disappeared because I-"

"You won't do it?" The woman coos.

"I will!" I blurt.

"Great! One pm next Saturday at Hakata-za?."

"You're debuting at Hakata-za?" I breathe.

"Yeah!" The woman chirps. "I'll see you there!"

A monotonous beep echoes from the speaker. Numbly, I flip my phone shut and drop it next to my plate on the table. Hastily, I shoot up from my seat, leaving my school bag and my lunch on the table.

I really hope I get it right this time.

_.-X-._

Squeals of sympathy and disbelief fill the room to the ceiling, so densely that I am considering opening a window to let them out. It's so loud that I can't hear the china clattering on the tray.

It's the first week the host club has been in business since a rather eventful spring break. Kyoya seems particularly pleased for some reason, despite being resigned to a wheelchair.

Nevertheless, he has a tray balanced across the arms of the chair, splayed with a fan of "newly released, high-quality photo books of your favorite hosts".

Tamaki is rushing around urgently, cooing over Kyoya, who is sighing and shaking his head every time Tamaki gets within earshot. Hikaru and Kaoru are looking particularly put-out, robbed even, with arms crossed and a calculating gaze trained on Kyoya and his mob of brand new fans. Haruhi is pleased with herself, sitting alone in one corner and reading quietly. Mori and Honey are eating cake, like always. And I, I don't have a single thing to do.

I unbuckle the vest they'd taken to making me wear, replace it with my blazer, and quietly retreat into the doorway. Just as my hand is curling around the knob, I hear Haruhi say conversationally, "Nao-kun?"

"I just remembered I have an appointment, so I gotta go now," I stammer. She blinks at me, shrugs, and goes back to reading. I slip out.

_.-X-._

Thursday. It's two days and I still have nothing but the last half. This would be stressful even with all my limbs where they belong, but about twenty percent of my body is missing, and I only have two days.

I whip out my phone and scroll to my sister's number on speed dial. She answers on the first ring with a bubbly cry of my name.

"Hey, Kaori, I need some advice," I respond quickly.

"Yeah?"

"Well, someone asked me to audition for A Midsummer's Night Dream this Saturday and I need an audition routine but I have nothing."

After a loud, muffled squeal from what sounds like far away, Kaori cries, "Why can't you just use your Swan Lake piece?"

Oh. Right.

"Thanks, Kaori!" I sigh. "You're a lifesaver."

"Good luck, Nao!"

I cut her voice short and plug my headphones into the jack. The song I practiced the most, the one I felt most confident about, was Swan Lake Theme, the opening melody, slightly modified to be the closing as well.

The intro begins, a couple bars where only my female partner would be on the stage, and I loosen the screws in my knee.

I rise onto my toes in substitution for my shoes. Damn, I think vaguely, past the music. I forgot. I need new shoes.

_.-X-._

There's a children's studio in the tourist district with a shop to one side that sells a little bit of everything. It's a place Kaori worked when she was seventeen and I was twelve and the only boy in my Saturday classes.

The owner of the place is a short, skinny, young woman with thick glasses and sleek hair pulled up in a bun. Her sharp eyes pick me out as soon as I close the studio door, the little bell jangling.

"Naoki!" She calls, zooming up from where she was trying a little girl's sneakers and hugging me with phenomenal strength despite her bony arms. "It's been so long I thought you'd never come to visit again I heard you got the lead in Swan Lake congratulations-"

"Take a breath, Nagisa-sama," I laugh, prying her off my chest.

"Why didn't you ever visit?" She pouts.

"Circumstance," I shrug. Her tiny eyes dart around me, taking me in. She's nice, but she always makes me kind of nervous.

I shove my hands in my jeans pockets and say, "So, Nagaisa-sama, I actually came here because I need shoes."

"Don't you have some?" She clicks her tongue but holds open the glass door to a cramped, dim, musty little supply shop. One wall is tacked with display shoes of all kinds: tap, ballet, skating, everything. Metal racks of sweatpants and leotards clutter the rest of the space.

"I kind of… lost mine," I lie, scratching the back of my head. In reality, they were destroyed about six weeks ago in a car crash.

"Carelessness," she reprimands, pushing me onto a bench pressed against the shoe wall, "won't get you anywhere, Naoki-kun." She scuttles behind a rack. "You really were one of my best, Nao. Shame to let it go to waste!"

"Thanks. But it was all thanks to you, you know."

"Alright Naoki, take off your shoes!" Nagisa commands, clapping her tiny hands together. I obey, kicking off my sneakers and keeping my socks on. She disappears behind the checkout counter and comes back with a stack of teetering boxes piled high over her head.

Without looking, Nagisa drops them on the bench next to me, snatches a metal contraption from under the bench, and puts it against my foot. She turns a dial and reaches out to grab my metal ankle.

"Naoki," she stops. I can see her hand on my foot rather than feel it. "What's this?" Before I can even open my mouth, she rips off my sock and pushes up the hem of my pants.

"It was a car crash, Nagisa," I admit.

"Oh," she says quietly. After a beat, her face lights up and she smiles a lopsided, toothy grin at me. "All, I hope that's all you're not telling me because if there's anything else, I may just explode!"

_.-X-._

The rest of the club is lounging about, waiting for the doors to open. Kyoya is tapping away at his laptop, the twins are laughing together, their arms slung over a distressed Haruhi, Mori and Honey are talking lowly over a slice of cake. Tamaki is shouting at the twins.

I scratch out yet another bullet point on a long list of ideas. I had written down potential audition songs, and went through them again and again until I only had six. And my last song was just scratched out.

I'm sure I could use Spring Waltz again, but… Oh well.

I drop my head into my hands, skewing my glasses, and sigh. My pencil clatters onto the table.

Bored of their conversation, the twins whisk Haruhi away into a corner to, as I constantly overhear them put it in such a perverted manner that I have a hard time looking either of them in the eye, 'play with their toy'. Of course, I'm sure that's just an expression and it only gives more light to their little devil character type, but still.

Tamaki slinks into the seat across from me. I watch him from between my fingers as he slides my paper toward him.

"What are you doing?" He finally laughs.

"Well, I got an audition for "A Midsummer's Night Dream", but I need an audition song."

"Why not just use Spring Waltz? You danced it well at my house." He rests his cheek in his palm and gives me his patented host smile, guaranteed to make any young lady well up with potential shreikiness.

Fine, whatever. Two can play that game. Tamaki Suoh may be a host, but I'm an actor, even if only ballet.

I lace my fingers together and drop my chin onto them with a sigh. Suddenly, I'm sickeningly glad my mother took me to acting lessons with a private tutor until I was fourteen and still figuring out how I fit the Mai family name.

My lashes lower, and I can image the blatantly flirty look I'm giving him. My voice comes out differently, clearer in fact. "The role is different."

"How?"

"Well, the role I want now is less shy and understated and more… out there. Somehow I imagine him more graceful and confident." I chew my tongue between my teeth, contemplating if I should even say what comes to mind next, but with that amused look swimming in his amethyst eyes, it just comes out. "You know, less me and more you."

He drops his hand, opens his mouth, and Kyoya calls, "Time to open up!"

The rest of the day, I can't tell if he's angry with me or not.

 **So, I kind of wanted to tell you this. I know it doesn't matter, but oh well.**

 **I originally meant for Naoki to be a girl. His (her?) original name was Hoshi Midori Mai and she was a dancer with lupus being treated at the Ootori Hospitals. Then I decided we needed more male OCs, so I changed her name to Naoki Shun Mai, replaced lupus with a prosthetic, and bam.**

 **So, REVIEW.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Quite a rollercoaster of a chapter I have for you guys today. This story may end soon since I didn't think I'd get this far in the first place but you know.**

 **Thanks to Chubaholic for the review and to dollinchains for following. You give me liiiife!**

 **Enjoy!**

"Pleasure to meet you, Naoki Mai!" The producer greets, shaking my hand. "You ready?"

"Close enough to ready," I laugh nervously.

"Great." She slides behind a fold out table, takes out a clipboard that reminds me unsurprisingly of Kyoya. "Go on, then. Whenever you're ready."

I swallow the fear in my throat. The last time I auditioned, I ended up losing my leg. I press play on my phone, pretend to stretch while testing if my knee will hold, and finally settle down into second position.

_.-X-._

I can feel my metal knee wobbling seconds before it gives way. It slides outward and the whole contraption practically snaps in half. I fall, and a piercing scream echoes through the air, followed by an urgent, "Ohmygod, I'll call an ambulance!"

I look down. My knee is bent at a very acute angle, and I'm sure that if it were real, my leg would be snapped in two.

"Wait!" I cry before the producer can press the call button and cause more commotion. "It's fine."

"Mai, your leg is…"

I roll up my sweatpants cuff past my knee. Of course, the screw is loose and the upper piece has practically slid off its slot. I quickly fit them back together and tighten the screws.

"It does that," I shrug, climbing to my feet. "Sorry if I scared you."

"You were… doing that with a… a…" her mouth flounders.

"Prosthetic?" I supply. She nods. I roll down the cuff of my pants and limp over to grab my bag of sneakers and clothes to change into. "Sorry I didn't tell you."

"No, where are you going?" Her voice lights up like a child on Christmas.

"Huh?" I turn around to face her.

"If you could do that with a bad leg, just wonder what you could do if it got fixed!" She bounces on the balls of her feet, gripping her cell in one hand.

"That's the problem. I can't fix it."

"I know someone who can!" She squeals. "My husband's ex wife is married to the man who owns Saweusae Prosthetics now!"

I nearly drop my bag.

"What do you say?" She rushes forward to grab my free hand. "Can I please, please hire you?"

"I- I… Sure!" I blurt.

"Great!" She leans forward and says in a deep whisper, "Do you want to know your role?"

I nod, too stunned to speak.

"Puck!"

"Puck?" I mimic in surprise.

"I know, you're not exactly the playful type, but I'm sure you can manage it, right?"

I nod again.

_.-X-._

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I opted to take a public bus home directly after the audition, arriving rather late.

Excitement still courses through my veins, giving the same effects as adrenaline but without the tiredness that follows.

"Mai-sama!" A maid who can't be much older than Kaori clacks into the room, her apron gathered in her fists.

"Call me Naoki-San, please!" I practically singsong. Cheeriness does that to a person.

"Naoki-san, it- it's your father, he-" she cuts herself off with widened eyes. I drop my school bag and take off after her. "We already called the police!" She reports as we speed walk as quickly as we can, her steps slowing to match mine.

Sirens scream up the driveway, echoing through the halls and ringing in my ears. "Go let them in," I order the young woman. She nods and scampers back the way we came.

My father's bedroom is usually dark and quiet at all hours of the day and night. Only a few senior maids are ever allowed in his bedroom; no one else, not even me or Kaori.

Now, the lights are bright and maids crowd the hall. I nudge them aside and burst through the empty doorway.

My father used to be strong. Since the crash, the muscle has melted off his bones. His face sunk into itself, leaving him gaunt and sallow-skinned. His whitening beard has grown bushy and out of control. His eyes are glassy, reflecting the light.

Kaori is there, kneeling next to his bed, clutching a shaking hand in hers. She sniffs loudly.

"Kaori? Is he-?" I limp into the room, and lower myself next to her.

Before she can gather herself to answer, paramedics burst into the room, shouting what sounds like another language at each other and crowding around my father's bed. Kaori and I are resigned to a corner, watching the swirling colors with vision blurred until a faceless paramedic asks who is going to ride with him to the hospital and Kaori says she will and pats my shoulder and tells me to get some sleep and leaves and the room just gets

Quiet.

Very, very, quiet.

_.-X-._

Nights at home are silent and dark. I get home late from rehearsal, and Kaori is either working or at the hospital. I'm not very sure. Father is on life support maybe. I haven't gone to see him yet.

I go to Mother's grave for the first time since the accident. It's a warm night for early summer, and the sky is dark with night and rain clouds. I shine the dim flashlight on my phone on the gravestone.

Gen Mai

1921-2007

Beloved mother and wife

I never got a clear view of it. At the funeral, I didn't want to look. I didn't stay behind with Kaori afterwards.

It doesn't seem like enough. This gravestone doesn't describe her pianist hands or the perfume she wore or the smile she only gave her family and the piano. My mother wasn't stone.

"Hi, Mom," I say quietly, because now it is her. Now, she's cold stone. "You'd be proud, I think. I'm finally debuting tomorrow." I lower myself on the dirt just in front of the stone. I don't reach out and touch it.

"You should really see me, Mom," I laugh into silence. "I've really let myself go. But it's not all bad. I'm coming back."

She doesn't answer. Stone can't talk.

My phone buzzes.

"Hi Captain," I greet the producer as I recognize the ID. She has a thing about being called Captain, kind of like how Tamaki calls Kyoya and himself Mommy and Daddy. I think.

"Get some sleep, Mai!" She reprimands.

"You called me," I mutter. She huffs into the speaker, tells me to go to bed, and hangs up. I'm left listening to the silence of the dead connection and the cicadas buzzing in the darkness.

_.-X-._

I pace the room, chewing my lip nervously. The producer just slammed the door open with a clipboard and a pencil behind her ear to give me a five minute warning.

Three minutes.

I press a hand flat against the rubber seal underneath my tailored costume. I rap my knuckles against the plastic cap of my metal knee. It holds. I sigh and roll the cuff back down.

Two minutes.

The door to my private dressing room- A dressing room!- clicks open and the producer rushes me out. She stops me just short of the left wing.

"You ready, Mai?"

I nod. She nods back at me. Tension coils in my gut. She pats down my carefully gelled hair, inspects the elegant face paint, smooths nonexistent wrinkles out of my costume.

One minute.

"Hey, Mai?" I look to her.

"You got this. You've had this since audition."

"You mean the audition where you almost called an ambulance?" I laugh quietly.

"Yeah. The audition that made me realize you're the only person that could possibly play this role for me." She pauses, smiles at me, and pushes me out of the wing onto the dark stage. Behind the thick velvet curtain, I can hear a crowd shushing as lights go out.

I dart to the middle. The curtain lifts and lights flash to life, bathing the stage forest green. Applause roars through what would be anticipated silence.

_.-X-._

"Twenty minutes!" The producer calls as soon as I scurry off the stage. My breathing is heavy and what's left of my left leg burns. I sit on the chair in front of my dressing room mirror and pull my cuff over my seal. I undo the clasps, letting the metal limb clatter to the floor, and put my freshly obtained bag of ice directly on my skin.

I let it sit there and turn to the mirror. With a new costume for the second half comes new makeup, something I spent hours looking up on YouTube. I had watched so many videos that when I logged on to watch cat videos two nights ago my Recommended feed was spammed with tutorials instead of animal cams.

Remover, foundation, concealer, paint.

When I'm finally satisfied with my image and I look somewhat like a chaotic good fairy, I reattach my leg and go to get a drink.

Intermission is in full swing. The lobby is packed with people buying snacks and chatting and small children who really don't belong in a classy, mature setting darting around their feet.

I slip around the edges of the crowd and to one of the vending machines against a dark groove near the bathrooms. Just as I slip in a coin, I feel a tiny hand latch onto mine and tug. A little girl in a bright pink dress looks up at me with wide eyes.

"Are you a prince?" She asks in awe.

"I'm a fairy," I kneel down to her level. "Are you lost?"

"Yeah," she nods her head vigorously. "I always wanted to be a ballerina too, but I can't."

"Why not?"

She kicks off one of her little white dress shoes and I see metal where flesh should be. "Mommy said I was born with sick muscles and had to get my foot cut off."

"Want me to show you a secret?" I smile. She nods again. I roll up my pants cuff and she gasps, pressing the tips of her fingers against my metal ankle.

"You're a ballerina but you have a promemtic just like me!" Her mouth makes a little puckered O and she whispers, "Do you have sick muscles too?"

"No, it was a car crash." I roll my cuff back down and stand. "Do you want me to help you find your mom and dad?" She nods. I hold out my hand for her and she grabs it.

I lead her through the crowd to the PA stand where they call out her name and her parents come running.

"Mommy, Daddy!" The little girl screeches as they hug her. "I want to take ballet lessons again!"

"Do you?" Her mother asks. "You said you didn't want to anymore."

"But Mommy," the girl protests, "this fairy has a leg like mine and I want to be a fairy like him when I grow up."

_.-X-._

"Naoki, that was amazing!" A singsong voice comes. I look down the aisle between seats.

"You came?" I laugh.

The show is over and the lights on in the auditorium. A handful of English literature fans lag around the stage where I and the other main performers sit. Next to me, the young lady who played Tatiana is chatting aimlessly to a woman holding a young child on her hip.

Between vibrantly red seats marches Tamaki, already down the aisle and hugging me so tightly I forget to breathe and forget to notice the clock stopping.

"You came alone?" I ask again, choking, and Tamaki steps back. I jump off the raised wall to the orchestra pit.

"Yeah. Sorry." He rubs the back of his head, disheveling his sunlight hair.

"Why?" I think I know the answer, but I'd love to hear him say it.

"Everyone else was busy," Tamaki says quietly, so very not like him. But then again, who am I to talk? I'm hardly like me at all.

What a thought, I laugh internally as I tilt my chin up, meeting his lips. He's still for a moment with surprise, then I feel the corners of his mouth lifting up. I fall back to my own personal space and remark with a grin over my shoulder, "It wasn't just my dancing you know!"

And the clock doesn't start ticking again until I'm back in my own darkened bedroom.

 **So, for anyone who knows of my first story Ouran Infiltrated, I posted a teaser for a next generation fic. Well, turns out I may be posting that fic if I get my mess of ideas hammered out and the first few chapters are well received.**

 **Review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**(I meant to post this earlier whoops)**

 **Thanks to Lunarella2903 for favoriting and to havarti2 for two favorites!**

The only consistent thing about the clock now is its inconsistency, the way it ticks erratically, like my breathing after a performance, like my heart when I catch sight of the whole host club, not just Tamaki, standing at the curtain call at my second show. Like the cadence of reporters' voices.

"Naoki Mai?" I am cornered in the emptied lobby. A young man with a baseball cap and a camera and an older woman with a microphone in one hand, a Bluetooth speaker over her ear, and a voice recorder in the other hand.

My sixth show ended half an hour ago. I'm out of my costume and makeup, my glasses hanging askew on my nose, my hair disheveled. I've taken to walking out between and after shows with my crutches because my leg and hip hurt too much after vigorous dancing.

"I'm from Spotlight Weekly-,"

"The theater magazine!" I squeal in excitement, dropping one of my crutches. The camera guy rushes to pick it up and I thank him, my face red.

Spotlight Weekly! A theater magazine!

"Yes, the theater magazine," the woman laughs at my zeal. Heat curls up my throat and settles on my cheekbones and forehead. "Well, Mister Mai, we want you for the cover of our next edition."

"M- Me?" I stutter. I'm sure I have cotton balls shoved in my ears, though I can't remember putting them there.

"Yes, Mister Mai. Do you mind if we interview you?" She sways over to a cushioned bench and pats the seat next to her with a smile. I hesitantly lower myself next to her.

"I guess."

She flips the recorder on and hands it to the guy with the camera. She takes out a little notepad, a golf pencil, and places the microphone on the arm of the chair.

"So, Mister Mai, where did you get your start?"

My throat dries, and I swallow. This isn't really any different from what the hosts do. It's the same charm with less, ahem, blatant flirting. I force a smile and say with almost a rasp to my suddenly too dry voice, "I took ballet since I was six but the first role I got was in Swan Lake."

"Tell us how you got your disability."

I blanch. "Sorry?"

She gestures with her scraped up dull blue pencil to the crutches resting against the wall. I nod and continue, face heating up, "I, uhm, a car crash. On my way to my debut performance."

"And how has it affected your dancing?"

"Well, it was hard to dance at first. I didn't really have any confidence. Then, I met some friends and they taught me that I could do anything I set my mind to. When Captain- sorry, the producer of this show, called me, it was because of that I accepted the audition. She didn't know about my leg at first and I actually fell in audition and she almost called an ambulance but I got the role anyway."

She scribbles something down on her notepad. "Tell us about these friends."

"I made a deal with a host club at my high school, Ouran Academy. If they would teach me how to be confident enough to dance with a prosthetic leg, I'd help them out at their club. It was actually kind of fun, and I just somehow got closer to them."

"I heard there was a drug scandal involving that club. Care to elaborate?"

Here, I pause, and collect myself. My words come fascinatingly easy. "The host club at Ouran actually found out that the company that made my prosthetic was smuggling drugs through their products. We meant to turn it into the police," a lie, "but there was a mix up and we ended up in court. But- I mean, it's really okay, since we never actually really had drugs."

She raises a pencil thin black eyebrow at me but only says, "What did you have to do to prepare yourself for your current role?"

"I know a few people who embodied the kind of attitude I wanted to display onstage, so I just pretend to be like them." I laugh nervously, strained, when she scribbles in her book again.

"Is there anything you'd like to say to aspiring athletes or performers out there with disabilities like yours?"

"Yes, actually." I straighten a bit with this one. "Uhm, just, you know, do what you love and don't let anything hold you back. Whether it's age, injury, self-consciousness, your disabilities don't define you. You're not invalid. You just have to work a bit harder than everyone else." After a pause in which I chew my lip, I continue, "I met a little girl at my first show intermission. She had a muscular disease and had to get her foot amputated but still wanted to be a ballerina. And, uhm, wherever you are, I know you're going to be a fairy too one day, so keep at it and don't give up."

The journalist tucks her pencil away, closes her notepad, and stands. She shakes my hand and departs.

In the resounding silence, I run my fingers through my hair and smudge my glasses. I was a tad more honest, and a bit more dishonest, than I would have liked.

But Spotlight! They wanted me!

I grin into my hands before collecting my crutches under my arms and leaving.

_.-X-._

It was Tamaki's idea. Then Kyoya's. Then Haruhi's. Tamaki suggested a celebration party after I showed them a copy of Spotlight Weekly with a shot of me in my sparkly Puck costume and a bright subtitle that read, "Page 3, the Story of the Disabled Dancer, Naoki Shun Mai!" Kyoya suggested something more toned down, said in an exasperated voice, and Haruhi suggested something very, very toned down.

That's why we're eating pizza in the club room late into the evening. The light is orange and the floor is cold under my hands. Tamaki and Hikaru, the loud one, I know, are fighting over the last piece of peperroni.

"But there's a whole other half a pizza!" Haruhi is sighing. "Just eat sausage!"

"Eat sausage," Kaoru snickers. Hikaru stops fighting Tamaki long enough to laugh, and watch as Tamaki shoves the whole slice halfway into his mouth. The screaming starts anew.

"What does that mean, Kao-chan?" Honey asks from Mori's lap, biting into a cinnamon stick.

"Nothing, senpai," Hikaru acknowledges when Kaoru won't answer, shoving sausage pizza into his mouth.

"Oh, okay," Honey singsongs.

"I'm going to tell him," I announce.

"Don't," Mori warns lowly.

"Hm?" Honey hums from around his cinnamon dessert as Tamaki rejoins the pizza circle, this time dragging Kyoya, who was in a corner table and ignoring all the food.

"Nothing, senpai," Haruhi reaffirms, death glare set on me. I shrink into my blazer. The twin sitting directly next to me- Kaoru, maybe, or Hikaru- nudges me.

"A game!" Tamaki announces grandly, startling me.

"What kind of game, boss?" The twins chorus.

"What do commoners play at pizza gatherings, Haruhi?" Tamaki asks, leaning into her with his shoulder.

"Figure it out yourself," she mumbles.

"Truth or dare!" The twins blurt. One chugs the rest of his soda, tightens the cap back on, and spins it wildly in the middle of the circle before anyone can protest. It lands on Kyoya.

"Kyoya-senpai," the spinner twin(-ner, I rhyme, with a laugh at myself) leans across the circle. "Truth, or dare?"

"Considering who's asking, truth."

"What are you always writing in that notebook?" He asks energetically.

"Monetical values, sums and differences corresponding to the rise and fall in club popularity, the sway in the teen interest market, the influence of the feminine fanbase, and daily losses, mostly due to," he pauses to glare at Tamaki, "outlandish proposals that hardly pass as ideas."

There's silence, until the loud twin simply says, "What?"

"Kyo-chan is looking at money," Honey sings happily, stuffing cake into his mouth. I have no clue where he got it.

"Oh," the twin says, and sits back. "That's boring. Spin, Kyoya-senpai."

He does, annoyed, and the bottle stops at Tamaki. His violet eyes widen and his tongue hangs out like a puppy. Kyoya sighs and asks, "Truth or dare?"

"Truth!"

"Boo," the twins chorus.

"Are you mentally capable of being quiet for more than half of an hour?" Kyoya practically spits.

"Hm…" Tamaki ponders. "I don't think so." And leans forward to spin the bottle. It lands on Honey and Mori. The former is already asleep on the latter's chest, and when everyone notices, the volume in the room drops significantly.

"Truth or dare?" Tamaki stage whispers to Mori.

"Truth," he whispers back. I can tell because the twins, who are closer, both roll their eyes.

Suddenly, said twins lean over and stage whisper, "Do you have a crush on Haruhi?"

"HUH?" She screeches, only to be shushes by practically everyone.

"No," Mori answers coolly. The twins sit back smugly. I am left reeling about what that means, but have no time to answer as the bottle lands on Kyoya. Again.

"Truth," he says immediately. The twins stick out their tongues.

Mori just calmly asks, "Are your glasses fake?" To which the twins sigh.

"No," Kyoya answers, and spins. It lands on Tamaki. Losing interest, I rest my elbow on my knee and my cheek in my hand.

"Truth," Tamaki says. The twins practically groan.

"Have you ever kissed anyone in this room?" And he knows. I know he knows. Because he looks directly at me. I choke on my breath.

"Forfeit!" Tamaki blurts.

"Forfeit is," the twins smirk, and raise a cinnamon stick high in the air, "the pocky game with someone Kyoya-senpai chooses."

Tamaki scowls, not a good thing on him, and takes the cinnamon stick.

Kyoya says viciously, "Naoki," and I choke again.

"F- Fine," I speak past the curl of embarrassment crawling up from my stomach and scoot on my knees closer to Tamaki.

The churro-like dessert is warm and soft and cinnamon sugar sticks to my lips and coats my tongue. I've never really enjoyed sweets all that much, but the smell of cinnamon is a whole other story. Not to mention the way it tastes on Tamaki's lips when we meet in the middle and hesitate far longer than we should. When I pull back, I have a whole new appreciation for cinnamon and the last of a warm brown dusting of it clinging to the corners of my mouth.

It takes me a second to remember to observe the faces of everyone in the room. The twins' mouths are dropped open, Haruhi is staring neutral with one eyebrow raised, Mori is looking on dispassionately, and Kyoya is smirking. Smirkingsmirkingsnirkingsmirkingsmirking tiktiktiktikti-

And the little bit of space is closed again, but there's no churro this time, and the cinnamon is still there, but gone off my lips now. And maybe I'm supposed to do something with my hands but maybe I'm not and before I can decide my mouth is left lonely and cinnamon-less and Tamaki is back where he belongs and Mori is clapping stoically and the twins are laughing and I'm blushingblushingblushing.

"I think I like cinnamon," I laugh out loud to ease the tension. The twins snort simultaneously and Tamaki is blushing and Kyoya is putting something sneakingly suspicious away.

I think to myself, I should get more magazine interviews and more pizza parties and- yeah. More kisses.

_.-X-._

Summer. After nearly thirty shows and a whole lot of press and box tickets, the ballet is finally over. Shows for the summer venue are just beginning to start, mostly children's theater and community productions.

The twins have a pool. They're splashing one another with water guns. Haruhi, in a ruffled bikini, which is strange for me because she's only ever in masculine clothes, is being pulled by Tamaki towards the edge. Mori is doing laps with Honey on his back. Kyoya is reading on a lounge chair, glaring up every time the twins' water battle gets close to him. I'm sprawled over an inflatable float, my metal leg off and wrapped securely in a bundle of towels.

A sudden arc of water splashes against my neck and face. My prescription sunglasses fly off and with a dull plop! land in the pool. Sputtering, I lean over the float to chase them downwards.

 **I have all the chapters for this story written, so it's really going to be over soon. Thanks to everyone who's still reading this!**

 **Also, I'm already working on yet another Ouran fic (Looking for a good beta) so stay tuned!**


	13. Chapter 13

**HOWDY**

 **Thanks to havarti2 for reviewing!**

 **Enjoy**

I think I talked to a girl in my theater class once. She said her goal was to do a show each season for at least a year. I don't know why that comes to me as soon as I get the call.

"Name again?" I ask into the tiny speaker, grabbing a pen from a cup on my computer desk and scribbling it onto a yellow legal pad. My English isn't very good. I've only been taking it since middle school.

"Olivia Mason!" A tiny, chipper voice squeaks. "You are No-kee May?"

"Naoki Mai," I correct.

"Sorry, sorry." She laughs. "Well, Mister Mai, I called because I want you for a production here in England. We're doing 'Swan Lake' so will you please please please come audition? I'll email you plane tickets and everything."

I catch a few words. My name, England, "Swan Lake", please. The rest I don't understand. She sighs, I recognize, "One second," then a mechanical voice is saying it all in Japanese.

She wants me in England to do "Swan Lake".

The automated voice, Google Translate, I think, is talking again. "If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. My friend told me about you from Spotlight Weekly and that you almost debuted 'Swan Lake'. Will you do it?"

My debut show, just in England. I'm being invited to travel all the way across the Eurasian continent for a shot at my dream show.

"Yes," I say in English.

"Thank you!" The automated voice says again. After a pause, it says, "I'll email you the tickets now. I'll send someone to pick you up at the airport. Goodbye." The dull silence of the dead line rings in my ear.

An email pops up as soon as the line dies. I click on it.

It's a receipt for a single ticket from Japan to England. Departure time is at six am on Monday. I pull up the calendar on my phone. Tuesday.

I'm leaving Japan in six days.

_.-X-._

On Wednesday morning, the excitement still hasn't worn off. I'm sitting outside, memorizing a Japanese-to-English dictionary, tasting how the words sound, memorizing the characters.

It's a bit too hot to be sitting outside, but I can't stand to hear so little inside. The maids bustling about is all there is now. Father is still in the hospital, and my sister is hardly home.

A shiny black limousine rolls up the driveway. I put the dictionary down on the porch next to me and peer at the tinted windows. Next to me, my phone buzzes. I turn it over to see a notification.

[ _King_Tamaki]_

 _we r at ur house_

 _[_Naoki-Shun-Mai_]_

 _I can see that._

 _[King_Tamaki]_

 _get in the car nao-chan_

I tuck my phone in my pocket and open the limo door. I'm about to ask why they're there, but a hand wraps around my shirt and pulls me inside.

"Didn't someone tell you never to get in a car with strangers?" One of the twins snickers.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you not to kidnap people from their houses?" I retort, sliding into a seat and buckling my seatbelt. "Where are we going anyway?"

"Ice cream!" Honey squeals.

This is all a bit dramatic for ice cream, but that much is expected from this club. And I really am having a hard time believing this is all about ice cream.

_.-X-._

On Sunday night, I set my alarm for three am. It'll take two hours to get to the airport, but something bad always happens. For example, the metal detector could go off on my leg and I could get patted down for half an hour. Kaori assured me that wouldn't happen, but what does she know?

I scribble a note to her on my legal pad and leave it on my bed. She said she wanted to say goodbye to me, but she's probably not up.

I never thought it would feel this shallow, leaving the only home I've ever known. I wholly prepared myself for deeply seeded regret and blossoms of anger and sadness and loss lodging in my throat and never dissolving. I expected to feel homesick for my house.

It's not that though.

The red and blue blossoms lodging in my throat are for something else. Something warm and deep and, and, not my house. It must be Kaori. She was always there for me when I was little, of course I'd be reluctant to leave her.

The ride to the airport is long and dark. I try my best to sleep, but something burns against my eyelids every time I close them. Pangs race through my body.

When the car finally rolls to a silent stop and my bags pressed into my hands, my chauffeur tips his hat at me, smiling sadly.

"I'll see you again, I hope, Mister Mai."

"Yeah." But I'm not very sure. "See you." I should really learn his name; I always meant to. I guess it doesn't matter now.

He climbs in his car and drives off.

The parking lot is quiet, especially for an airport. A couple people push past me, laughing and excited, and enter the airport. I always kind of liked airports. I've never been on a plane, but I'd imagined airports are like train stations. Plane stations. I would laugh at that any other day.

I go up to the ticket counter and collect my ticket. There's no line, since it's five am. Next is, I think, baggage check. The point of no return.

There's no line there either. A security guard with a salt and pepper beard and a gruff voice says, "Early riser, huh?"

"Early flight," I smile.

"Nervous?" He asks, gesturing for me to put my suitcase and backpack on a kind of boxy conveyer belt.

"It's that obvious?"

He chuckles lowly in his throat. I put my cellphone, wallet, and glasses in a bin at his prompting.

I step up to the metal detector. Without a conscious thought, I look over my shoulder. A smattering of people mill about the huge open space, the occasional person or pair entering through the sliding doors.

"Whatcha' waiting for, kid?" The security guard asks.

Two beats of my heart, two chimes of the clock. I answer, "I'm not sure. Maybe," I know what those blossoms were as soon as I say it out loud, "Maybe summer."

"It is summer," the guard laughs.

"I know."

"Are you… Going to step through?"

Still looking over my shoulder, I ask, "Just a second. I have to call someone." I snatch my phone out of the bin and turn around to the empty space of the airport lobby.

Four rings. I thought he wouldn't answer.

"Hellooooo!" Of course he's up and energetic.

"Tamaki? It's Naoki."

"Nao-chan!" Tamaki's voice is warped over the small speakers. "I didn't know you'd be up this early! I found this great-"

"Tamaki." I cut him off. "I'm getting on a plane to England."

"England?" His voice falls to confusion. "Why? When?"

"Right now. I'm at the airport right now." I take in a shaky breath, past the heavy blossoms in my throat. "I- I just wanted to… Say goodbye."

"What?"

"Bye, Tamaki. Thanks for all your help."

"Wait, Nao-!" I hang up. I'm sure those blossoms would have suffocated me if I had stayed on the line long enough to hear him say my name again.

I drop my phone back in the bin. The security guard regards me with tiny eyes underneath a heavy set brow. I step through the metal detector and, sure enough, it beeps.

"Hold out your arms," the guard instructs. I do. He pats me down until he reaches my metal leg.

"You gotta take it off." I sit on the ground, undo the seals, and wait long enough for him to run it through the conveyer belt and hand it back to me.

"You've worked at airports a long time?" I ask quietly as I reattach my leg.

"Forty-five years." He practically swells with pride.

"Have things like in those cheesy romance movies ever happened in real life?" I ask. "Like, someone is about to get on a plane and leave for who knows how long and their romantic interest comes and begs them not to and they both live happily ever after?"

"I guess," he rubs the back of his head awkwardly, "but not often. Why?"

"Just wondering." I stand and take my bags back. "Do you think…" I trail off, embarrassed.

"It could happen to you?" He chuckles. I nod sheepishly. "Maybe. I'll come find you if it does, how about that?"

"Thanks." I turn to go find my gate.

_.-X-._

The gate is situated so I can watch the sun rising red over the pavement. My phone is silent and still on the seat next to me. I would have my headphones in, but I'm waiting.

For what, I really don't want to admit.

I'm not sure that, even if he did come, I wouldn't get on the plane anyway. I'm not sure I'll ever get a chance like this again. To do my dream show, my almost-debut part in England.

If I did get on the plane, would I ever have the chance to come back? Could I show my face again? Or, even worse, would Tamaki ever forgive me?

With a jolt, the thought that maybe I will get another chance occurs to me. What if I get another chance at this show, but if I leave, he really won't want to see me again?

But what if I don't?

The seats are filling in the gate around me, and the clock is tik- tik- tiking away efficiently.


	14. Chapter 14

**I totally thought I had posted this earlier whoops haha**

 **Thanks to havarti2 for reviewing and to nhus321 for favoriting me!**

 **Enjoy the conclusion!**

The intercom clicks on and the gate is called for boarding.

I shoot upright on my seat. The plane is boarding. Passengers file past me, laughing and joking and talking talkingtalkingtalkingtalking tiktiktiktkktik and despair blossoms heavy and heady in my throat until I'm choking and a stewardess stalls to ask me if I'm okay but suddenly it's very

Quiet.

I'm the last one at the gate.

"Sir?" A stewardess is shaking my shoulder gently. "Are you okay? Sir?"

"Yeah," I choke past the thick blossom in my chest and feel it curl its petals around my heart. "Sorry."

"Are you going to board?" She asks.

Yes. It's right on the tip of my tongue. One syllable. Just one. Yes, you have to, Naoki. Yes, this is what you wanted, Naoki.

"No."

No, this isn't what I want. I'm scared of the clock. I want to break it. I want to smash it until I can't hear it ticking anymore. It doesn't matter if my dancing will forever be half a beat off, or that I may never get to dance Swan Lake.

I sling my bag over my shoulder and grab my suitcase. I run awkwardly on my metal leg, the suitcase jumping at every misstep I take.

I burst into the lobby, panting. It's crowded now, half filled with people. I weave past them, as fast as I can, back and forth, until I reach the door bay.

Someone running slams into me, and catches me by the upper arms. I drop my suitcase and it lands on its side by my feet. My glasses slip off my nose. Familiar fingers push them up.

"I thought you were gone!" He exclaims, aghast.

"So did I."

Tamaki laughs, bright and bubbly and elated, and still gripping my shirtsleeves tightly, bunching them around my shoulders, he kisses me shortly. I don't hear the clock and I know, somewhere in the back of my mind past the blossoms of elation and thickly layered relief, I never will again.

"Do you ever think…" I pant when he pulls away, "that an airport is really just a plane station? Like a train station but with planes?"

"All the time!" He gasps dramatically, picking up my suitcase and practically pushing me out of the plane station door.

 **I was was considering a sad ending but nah. I love my little Naoki.**


	15. Epilogue

**A crappy epilogue, set five years after the last chapter.**

 **(help)**

 **Enjoy!**

It's things like this I'll never get tired of seeing.

A spotlight bright against the darkness of the auditorium. White stage lights angelic against the bare mahogany wood. The beating of a dark crowd, pulsating with life and love. My name in bolded, glossy letters on the covers of theater magazines. The contrast of salmon roses against the white of my costume.

It's things like this I'll never get tired of hearing.

The uneven tapping of a metal foot, muffled under the crescendo of the Swan Lake song. The snapping of cameras when I step into the lobby. The clapping that roars and breaks like a wave at the curtain call.

"Sorry I'm late," I pant, sliding into a red upholstered booth. Outside, the street is empty and the windows dark, rain trailing against the glass. The light inside is warm and comforting, a deep contrast to the chill of ice cream.

"How'd it go, Nao-chan?" Honey asks, shoving a spoonful of fudge sundae into his mouth.

We all made a point of meeting up every once in awhile after everyone went off seperate ways. The twins go to college in Milan. Haruhi is at law school in Nagoya. Mori is training at the police academy in Kansei. Kyoya already bought out his father's company. Tamaki is under instruction to take over his father's business. It's been two years since I've graduated.

"Perfect!"

And I'm dancing Swan Lake, half a beat off.

 **Thanks to everyone reading up to this point. You stuck it out, yayyyyy!**


End file.
